


This is Not a Drill

by sabrecmc



Series: This Is Not a Drill [1]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alpha Tony, Alpha Tony Stark, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bonding, Bottom Steve, Bottom Steve Rogers, Crackedy-crack-crack-crack, Fanart, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Humor, Inappropriate use of pillows, Instant Bonding, Knotting, Love at First Sight, M/M, Omega Steve, Omega Steve Rogers, Omega Verse, Protective Tony Stark, Ridiculous Crack, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Top Tony, Top Tony Stark, pillows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-24
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2018-02-22 09:07:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 23,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2502278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabrecmc/pseuds/sabrecmc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Can I—can I see him?  I mean meet him.  Uh…welcome him to the team?” Tony clarified, probably not very well, he knew.  </p><p>“Well…there’s a bit of an issue with that,” Fury said, and Tony figured this was where Fury got to whatever it was that had really forced his hand and made him call Tony in, knowing how much the man detested having to do so.  “You see, well.  He was suspended in the ice for nearly seventy years,” Fury began. Tony nodded along, because he could do math.  </p><p>“I’m sure he has a lot of adjusting to do—“ Tony started.</p><p>“Seventy years,” Fury repeated, cutting Tony off and leaning back in his chair and making it rock slightly.  “Of no suppressants.”</p><p>“Oh,” Tony managed to choke out past the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat.  “Oh.”</p><p>Chapter 2:  Wherein Tony plots murder, Steve is stubborn and there's an island, but not that one.</p><p> Chapter 3:  The world's least interesting pillow fight</p><p>Chapter 4:  Poor suit design is an issue.</p><p> Chapter 5:  Pillows solve everything</p><p>Chapter 6:  Total porn.  Improper use of biology and anatomy.  Nothing remotely redeeming.  At all.</p><p>Chapter 7: Fanart by dksartz!</p><p>Chapter 8:  NSFW Fanart by Gregory Welter</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Tony hated waiting. He especially hated being kept waiting. And he really, truly and deeply hated being kept waiting by Fury, who was obviously doing it on purpose, if for no other reason than because he knew how much Tony really, truly and deeply hated waiting.  Fury had been pretty circumspect, even for Fury, which was saying something, about the reason he wanted Tony down at SHIELD headquarters, and though Tony had put him off, let’s see, a good four times at least, Fury’s persistence had finally pinged Tony’s curiosity enough to get him down here. 

As he waited in Fury’s office, he systematically moved everything on the man’s desk ever so slightly, just an inch or so to the left, so it would be as disconcerting as possible. When that didn’t produce Fury stalking dramatically through the door, he reprogrammed the voicemail greeting on Fury’s phone. That was going to end up with a few awkward messages, Tony strongly suspected.  He was debating redoing the keyboard configuration from the traditional qwerty to something vastly more creative when the man himself appeared, circling around his desk and blinking his one good eye in confusion at the slightly altered placement.

“You’re finally here, I see,” Fury observed, stating the obvious for effect because that was what he did sometimes, hoping the other person would be irrationally compelled to start adding information.

“I am,” Tony replied, fingers tapping on the edge of the chair. “You said you needed me for something.  That it was important.  So, here I am.  Ready to assist my friendly government spy agency in any way I feel like.”  Tony nudged the suitcase armor that was leaning against Fury’s desk with his foot, just to be sure Fury understood where he was coming from.

“I told you that nearly a week ago, Stark. Not so sure I need you for this project now,” Fury said, flaring out his long, black coat as he sat down. Dramatically, of course.  Tony was surprised the guy didn’t just throw out the jazz hands sometimes. 

“And what is the project, exactly?” Tony asked brusquely, already tired of the who is the bigger Alpha game they were playing.

“We have had something of a situation arise. Rather unexpectedly, to say the least.  And now…we’re in a bit of a conundrum, quite frankly,” Fury admitted, somewhat reluctantly to Tony’s ear. 

“Someone reprogram the clock on the coffee pot?” Tony asked, crossing his legs and leaning back in the chair.   “It is technically twelve o’clock twice a day, so that seems good enough for government work.”

“I forget, when you aren’t around so much, the many and varied reasons we don’t have you around so much,” Fury replied. “This is Avengers business, Stark, or believe me, I wouldn’t have called you in.”

“Well, spill, Oculus, I don’t have all day,” Tony insisted.

Fury sighed deeply and massaged his forehead with his hand for a moment before answering. “We found Captain America.  In the ice.  The Arctic.  He’s alive and he’s here.  Five floors below us,” Fury said evenly, staring at Tony.

What. The. Hell. Captain America?  The Captain America?  Tony blinked, mind immediately drawing up images of the red, white and blue suit and shield, punching Hitler, the Howling Commandos, and okay, yeah, more images of the Captain that was probably strictly warranted by the history books, but his Dad had a file.  Sue him for taking a peek or, you know, a few.  Some.  Definitely nothing that could be labeled obsessive, strictly speaking, probably because no one actually knew about it, so there was that. 

“He’s alive? The serum?” Tony muttered, eyeing Fury with disbelief.

“Obviously. We still don’t know all of what Erskine’s formula can do.  As you know, he was the only success.  Many people think that was because Erskine insisted on using an Omega for his trial, but with the formula lost, we’ll probably never know for sure.  Anyway, he’s here, and he is, by rights, an Avenger, so that makes him your business, Stark,” Fury explained. 

Tony recalled the photos from his Dad’s file, the skinny, sickly Omega kid they’d juiced up, something his Dad had once explained that Erskine had insisted on, choosing his own subject for the test. No one had any idea he’d pick an Omega.  Let alone one that was sick.  Even then, they were rare.  Certainly, at that time, no one would ever have imagined Erskine would choose to put one in harm’s way, let alone send him off to war.  Omegas had been considered frail, delicate creatures, in need of big, strong Alphas, or whatever the left over Neanderthal propaganda said, to protect them, take care of them, handle the cold, brutal world that was simply too harsh for them.  Tony remembered one of his Dad’s old war buddies remarking one time, decades ago now and over a lot of empty liquor bottles, that he couldn’t believe they’d ever let Rogers out of the hospital long enough for him to try to enlist.  Omegas too sickly to bond were considered tragedies, something to be hidden away from polite society, which wouldn’t then have to mourn what could have been if only the Omega was able to fulfill his or her true purpose, or some such utter horseshit.  Of course, Steve Rogers had managed to be the exception to prove the exception, actively trying to join the war effort, despite knowing, of course, that as an Omega, he would be rejected. Even now, the debate over putting Omegas on the front lines still waged.

But Captain America had changed that. In addition to what he accomplished on the battlefield, had done a lot to change perceptions about the role of Omegas in society.  Even with the serum and newfound strength and agility, the serum hadn’t altered his innate personality.  Until then, until him, it would never have crossed the minds of most Alphas and Betas that an Omega would ever be able to lead, to command, to be daring and courageous and all those other traits the Captain had exemplified in spades.  It would be too simplistic, Tony knew, to say that Captain America had been responsible for the shift in perceptions about Omegas that had occurred over the seventy or so years since then, but he had certainly gone a long way to making those changes a possibility instead of a pipe dream. 

“Can I—can I see him? I mean meet him.  Uh…welcome him to the team?” Tony clarified, probably not very well, he knew. 

“Well…there’s a bit of an issue with that,” Fury said, and Tony figured this was where Fury got to whatever it was that had really forced his hand and made him call Tony in, knowing how much the man detested having to do so. “You see, well.  He was suspended in the ice for nearly seventy years,” Fury began. Tony nodded along, because he could do math. 

“I’m sure he has a lot of adjusting to do—“ Tony started.

“Seventy years,” Fury repeated, cutting Tony off and leaning back in his chair and making it rock slightly. “Of no suppressants.”

“Oh,” Tony managed to choke out past the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. “Oh.”

“So, I can’t really let you just meet him, you understand. We already had an…incident…with some Alpha military observer that was part of the recovery team, which I would not like to see repeated.  He’ll be okay, mind you.  Eventually,” Fury said, shrugging as if totally unconcerned.   “We’ve kept him isolated through the worst of it, but I’ve got a stack of increasingly belligerent messages from everyone from Ross on down demanding to meet him.  Somehow, I don’t think they are concerned about his health and well-being, if you catch my drift.”

Tony did. Bonding with Captain America would be quite the coup for anyone, particularly someone as ambitious as Ross. Hell, he’d end up in the Presidency, for fuck’s sake.  Tony could try to explain things to him.  Help him reintegrate a bit, figure things out.  Least he could do, really. For America, of course.

 “While it still wouldn’t be a good idea to actually go into the room with him, you can come to the observation level.  There’s a room there equipped with an intercom system, so you’ll be able to chat.  I think it would be good for you to talk to him.  I’ve told him a bit about the Avengers, given him files on everyone,” Fury continued. “Yes, including you.  It might help his adjustment to meet a fellow team member, someone that he knows he will be working with, not to mention someone who has a name that is at least familiar to him.  For some reason that escapes me, I don’t think he entirely trusts me,” Fury said, eye wide and unblinking as if he really couldn’t fathom the lack of faith.

Tony surprised himself a bit at how quickly he stood, legs knocking back against the chair slightly making it rattle on the floor. _Pull yourself together, man_ , he thought quietly.  Not like this is your first time meeting an Omega.  Though quite rare, if you were in Tony’s sphere, brokers practically threw them at you.  Being introduced was one thing.  An Omega at a party was a coup, after all, and he did throw the best parties.  They were beautiful, sure.  Tending to the smaller side, long, graceful limbs, always attracting a crowd just wanting to be in their presence.  He supposed, if you thought about it, which he certainly had not spent a ton of time doing, nope, but if one did think about these things, then maybe it made some kind of crazy sense, what Erskine had done.  Omegas naturally drew people to them, Alphas and Betas sought out their presence like sirens, everyone seemingly happy just to be around them.  Throw in some serum and vita-rays, and you have yourself a charismatic leader. 

Tony had always found the whole thing a bit cloying. Sure, there was the initial pheromone rush of being around one. That always felt good, soothing and exhilarating in some strange way that biology dictated, but he wasn’t ruled by his body, despite what the papers might say.  He’d never had any inclination to try to bond, even if that had been a possibility with one of them.  There was nothing guaranteed, after all.  Alphas and Omegas could certainly have relationships without bonding.  Those stupidly happy Alpha and Omega couples that were actually bonded were among the most off-putting sights Tony had ever seen.  He understood the evolutionary reasons for it, of course.  Bonded couples were somehow able to function at a much higher level than their unbounded counterparts or the far more common Beta-Beta or Alpha-Beta couples.  Didn’t mean you had to get all sappy about it. 

He followed Fury to the elevator, watching him surreptitiously as Fury’s voice authorization for the isolation floor was accepted. When they reached their destination, the doors slid open into a rather sterile looking environment, a large room with a few seats and a window that offered a view into a similar room on the other side.  Fury went to stand by the glass, peering inside, then nodded, as if satisfied and stepped back.

“Captain Rogers. I’ve brought Mr. Stark.  The one I told you about.  He’s just here to meet you and answer any questions you might have about the Avengers Initiative, if you feel up to it, of course,” Fury said mildly, hands braced behind his back. 

“Mr. Stark,” a deep voice echoed from the intercom. “Thank you for coming all the way down here.  You really didn’t have to do that,” Captain Rogers, said, stepping up to the window and nodding towards Tony.

That _might_ have been where the wheels came off the bus, so to speak. 

One minute, he was standing next to Fury, ready to return the greeting. Seemingly the next minute he was sitting with his back against the observation window wearing the armor while Pepper’s increasingly shrill voice shouted through the HUD.

“Tony?!? Tony, will you answer me, please? What the hell is going on?  I’ve got Director Fury dragging me out of a Board of Directors’ meeting, shouting some nonsense about you refusing to let anyone near some Captain?”  Pepper shouted.  “Tony!  For the love of…Tony, if you don’t answer me right this second, I’m going to come down to SHIELD and find you, and you won’t like what happens when—“

“Uh, Pep. Hi, Pep.  It’s me.  I mean, I’m here.  Yeah.  I’m good.  Um, how are you?”  Tony stuttered, blinking as he looked rather bemusedly at his gauntleted hands.

“How am I? I’m not great, Tony.  Not great at all.  What in the world is going on?” Pepper asked, her voice calming slightly now that Tony had finally managed a reply, nonsensical as it was.  “Why is Fury freaking out?  What is this about some Captain?”

“Captain America. His name is Steve,” Tony said, shaking his head back and forth, trying to clear the fog enough to form coherent thoughts.  “Steve,” Tony repeated, because he liked how it sounded.  It really was a great name, as names went.  “Steve.”

“Tony….” Pepper said, voice low with concern.  “Who is Steve?”

“He’s Captain America. He’s an Avenger.  I’m talking to him.  About the Avengers.  Because I am one.  And also, he knew my father, but I’m not my father, so it’s totally okay,” Tony said, because he knew that much. 

“Tony, why are you refusing to let anyone near him?” Pepper asked, which was annoying, because obviously he couldn’t just let people come near Steve. Really.  That was just…obvious.

“Uh…something could happen?” Tony offered, voice rising a bit with each syllable.

“What, Tony? You’re at SHIELD, right?  One of the most secure places on Earth?  What could possibly happen?”  Pepper questioned.

“I don’t know. Something.  I—yeah, see, I know what you’re saying is true.  I do get that, Pep, honestly I do,” Tony replied.

“Okay, then. So, will you please get out of there and leave this Captain alone, so Fury will get off my back?  He’s threatening to have you forcibly removed, by the way,” Pepper informed him.

“Yeah, uh. About that. I don’t think that would go well.  That’s ah…probably not a good idea right now, fair warning,” Tony responded, trying to take deep breaths, and hey, when had he turned around to face the glass?  And where had that crack in the glass come from?  Really, this place was a minefield.  It definitely wasn’t safe here.  What they needed was—“Hey, JARVIS, find me an island, would you?   Something nice, but remote.  Tropical.  Warm. That would be great.”  He was brilliant, really.

“Tony, no island. Why do you even want an island all of a sudden? What, by all that is holy and good, is going on here?” Pepper demanded.  “Look, would you just come back to the Tower?  I’m sure this Captain…Steve…whatever…will be just fine.  You admitted so yourself, so would you just…whatever this is, would you just stop it already, before Fury puts a stop to it?  I do not need to deal with a PR disaster because you and SHIELD get into some kind of dust-up over…over whatever this is,”  Pepper requested, breathing deeply.

“Ah, well, see that sounds like a good idea. But, I can’t.  I mean, I would.  Don’t get me wrong.  I just can’t,” Tony replied.

“Give me one good reason why not, Tony,” Pepper commanded.

“Something could happen to him,” Tony said, banging his helmeted head against the glass lightly, so as not to break it further, because he knew, he really did know somewhere deep down, okay way deep down, that he had lost the plot entirely.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Pepper intoned in frustration.

“Excuse, Ma’am,” Steve’s voice said. And really, he just had such a nice voice.  Tony could listen to it all day.  They should talk more.  Why didn’t they talk more?  Maybe on the island. “Director Fury had your call, um, ‘hacked,’ I think he said it was.  I’m sorry for the intrusion.”

“That’s alright, ah, Captain, is it? Is Tony okay?  Is he with you?  What is going on?” Pepper asked, words tumbling out in a rush.

“He’s fine, Ma’am. He is…with me.  Sort of.  He had a bit of a, um, reaction, earlier, but it seems a lot more under control with the…suit…on,” Steve replied.  That made some sense, Tony thought.  The suit had its own air system, so whatever scent-whammy he’d been hit with earlier had probably largely dissipated, allowing him to come back to himself from whatever pheromone storm there had been.   Had he…he struggled to recall…he’d been standing there by Fury…Fury had said something…then Steve had said something…something nice…and then Steve had been there at the window…he looked up at the cracked glass…so, that might have not gone as Fury had hoped.  Or maybe it had.  Fury was shifty like that.  The important thing was that with the suit on, he was in control, his mind was not being ruled by some ridiculous biological imperative.

And really, the sooner he got Steve to the island, the sooner he could explain all of this. “JARVIS, where are we on the island purchase?” Tony asked, getting silence in reply.

Wait? Had Steve eaten?  It would probably be a long trip to the island.  Steve should have food.  But what kind of food did he like?  “JARVIS, order two of everything on the menu from each of the five star restaurants on the East coast and have it delivered to SHIELD for me?” Tony said.

“Ms. Potts is rather stridently insisting that I not listen to anything you say,” JARVIS informed him coolly. “I feel that I must defer to her in this circumstance.”

“It’s okay, Tony. I’m not hungry.  SHIELD sends food down regularly,” Steve assured him.

“You can’t eat that stuff,” Tony said derisively.

“Why not?” Steve asked.

“…Reasons,” Tony informed him solemnly, stating the obvious.

“Oh. My. God. Tony—you---you—how—what—“ Pepper stuttered. “You bonded?  Where did you even find an Omega?  If this is some SHIELD plot, Tony, there are ways, I mean, it isn’t unheard of, though no one talks about it, but they can’t just do something like this…”

“I don’t think Director Fury had any idea this would happen, Ma’am. He looked…surprised, to put it mildly.  That could’ve been from getting thrown across the room though.  It was hard to tell for sure,” Steve said.  Steve was so observant to have noticed that. From Pepper’s disgusted huff, he might have said that out loud.  “I think Director Fury is concerned about Tony, which is why he called you.  I don’t think this kind of thing can be forced or manipulated somehow.  Unless things have changed a lot more than I realized,” Steve responded, a bit of a question on the end of that last part, which was ridiculous because of course this wasn’t some SHIELD thing. 

That was crazy. Pepper was an idiot. A complete and utter idiot, and she was putting thoughts into Steve’s head.  Bad thoughts, untrue thoughts and why would she do that? This was pure and true and right, and Steve shouldn’t be concerned about anything remotely like that.  Now Steve was concerned and it was all Pepper’s fault.  And Pepper needed to tell Steve, tell him right now, that she hadn’t meant it, that such a thing wasn’t possible, and that this was pure and true and right, and she really needed to use those words and then stop speaking, except maybe to tell Steve that this was pure and true and right, just in case he wasn’t sure.  Maybe she could send some kind of expert over?  Were there bonding doctors?  Sure there were.  There had to be.  They could tell Steve that this was pure and true and right and Pepper didn’t know what she was talking about and--

“You’re really bonded? Wow, that’s…I mean, that’s great, obviously.  I just never thought…but, wow.  Just wow, Tony.  I’m…happy for you.  Both of you.  We’ll have a proper ceremony and everything once you’re home,” Pepper said, sounding genuinely pleased.  Pepper was really very smart and thoughtful.  He didn’t give her the credit she deserved.  Brilliant, perceptive, wonderful Pepper. 

“Speaking of home……what now, Tony?” Pepper asked. “You’re just going to hang out at SHIELD?”

“No, I told you, the island,” Tony said with a grimace. Did the woman just flat-out not pay attention?  And he had her running his company. 

“I’ll have to stay here until the doctors say it will be okay for me to go. Tony—“  Steve began.  Tony heard what he just figured must be a fond sigh as he leaned back against the door, to which he suddenly found himself plastered.  It felt oddly comforting here, though he wasn’t sure why, because he was too far from Steve and something could happen to him, so that was going to become a problem, but he was a genius, so he could probably figure it out.  “And Tony…Tony will de-electrify himself from the door…and he can stay here, too,”  Steve said reasonably.  Tony would stay here, too, of course he would. Steve had such good ideas. 

“How long is he going to be like this?” Pepper asked curiously.

“I talked with the doctors about half an hour ago and said to give it another couple of hours, and he should be mostly back to himself,” Steve replied. Aw, Steve had checked on him.  That was so thoughtful.  He peeled himself off the door and went back to leaning headfirst against the window. 

"You should know that when he isn't a blissed-out lunatic, he's actually quite the genius," Pepper said with a smile. 

"Hey, I'm a genius even when I am a---Wait," Tony stuttered, blinking and trying to catch the trail of thought he was following.

"I read his file," Steve said.  Steve was so conscientious like that.  "It is very impressive, all the things he's been able to accomplish."  Steve thought he was impressive, which, of course, he was.  Steve was very perceptive.  Good judge of character and all that. 

“Okay, well, I guess I’ll let Fury know what’s going on and…ah, screw it, let him deal with it. I need a drink,” Pepper said, abruptly hanging up.

“The, uh, suit…doesn’t bother you? New tech and all?  Not exactly forties stuff,” Tony questioned carefully.  He wasn’t sure if taking off the suit was a good idea just yet.  Something could happen, after all. 

“It’s fine, Tony.  I think you put it on to, ah, protect me, I guess. From you trying something stupid, and from whatever it is that you think might happen,” Steve shrugged with a small smile.  “It’s sweet.”  It really was, Tony decided.  They could make it a thing.  He could wear the suit and keep Steve safe, and Steve could be safe.  This relationship was going so well. 

“Bonding hormones,” Steve told him, grinning a bit. Of course, Tony knew about the rush of bonding chemicals from basic biology class.  Everyone knew about it.  He wondered why he wasn’t affected by them?  Probably because of the suit.  And being awesome.  He should tell Steve about how he wasn’t affected like some raging Alpha maniac, so Steve would know he was awesome.  Once they got to the island. Must be awkward for poor Steve though, to have gone through that.  He nodded sympathetically in understanding.  He didn't want Steve to feel badly about it.  It was just biology, after all.

“They affect me a bit differently, but I still felt them. That’s um…actually how the glass got cracked,” Steve admitted sheepishly. That was a little hot.  More than a little.  Tony wondered if Steve would crack the windows at the house on the island.  That would be neat.  “They just wear off a lot faster for me with the serum,” Steve continued. 

Tony felt itchy heat rise up his back, making him slightly dizzy and nauseous. He groaned a bit, something…he needed something…it would, if he could…it would…it would…this would go away or not away, but would feel good somehow, which was ridiculous because how could this feel good, ever?  That was crazy, but it  might be okay if he could just…just…

“Here,” Steve said, rapping on the glass with his knuckles making a dull, hollow sound. Steve pointed at something, and for the first time Tony noticed a small locked handle on the side of the wall next to the glass.  He thumped over to it, footfalls of the suit echoing loudly in the empty room.  He stared at it dumbly for a moment, then looked up at Steve expectantly.  “It’s one of those slots they use to hand things to me when they can’t come in,” Steve explained.  Oh.  Oh, so if he opened that, he could be closer to Steve, be in the same air Steve was breathing, be almost able to—huh, how’d the handle get broken, he wondered, staring at the piece of metal in his hand as the screws hit the floor with light pings. 

“Ah, I think it will just open now,” Steve suggested. “You…um…you want to try it with the, uh, the glove…thing…off?”  As it turned out, Tony did, very much, thank you.  Steve had the best suggestions, really.  The gauntlet retracted, peeling the layers of metal away so his hand was free.  He pulled down the small door in the wall, and peered inside for a moment before reaching his hand through, grasping, searching, and then finally closing around warm, solid skin.  He felt his hand clench tightly around Steve’s, nails digging in for a moment, before he was able to release enough to thread his fingers through Steve’s, wrapping their hands together in an overlay of skin on skin, and that…that…that was everything perfect in the world, written in skin and bone and blood and nicks and cuts and marks etched into their palms, and the itchy, dizzy, nausea thing died down to something else, something that thrummed inside him,  sending stars dancing behind his eyes.  He blinked and placed his other hand braced on the wall for support. 

“Steve Rogers,” Steve said by way of introduction. “I’m having a very strange week.  But…it’s nice to meet you.”

“Tony Stark,” Tony replied. “It’s nice to meet you, too.  This actually makes the most sense of anything I’ve ever done.”  Steve rubbed a finger gently along the inside of his hand, tracing delicately along the ridge between his thumb and pointer. 

“You’re really going to love the island, by the way,” Tony promised. It made his heart swell that Steve was so overcome that he was slowly banging his head against the wall above the pass-through slot.  He should really stop that though.  They were probably going to need to stand like this for a long time.  He should see about getting Steve a magazine.  Maybe that one from Time where he was named Man of the Year. But it really wouldn’t be a good idea to move just yet. 

Something could happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a Steve POV for their first meeting in my Thank You Fics, if you are interested in seeing how Steve reacted to Tony. Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

Tony kept time by the small circles Steve’s finger was tracing on his hand, each brush of contact soothing and calming, because it meant Steve was right there, so it was okay. He wondered when Steve would be okay to leave here.  Of course, he was willing to wait as long as it took for Steve to be okay.  This had to be rough on him.  Being stuck in a tiny room at SHIELD, overcome by hormones and trapped by his own biology.  Poor Steve, he thought sadly, glancing around the tiny room at SHIELD where he was standing.  Of course, Steve was handling it so bravely.

“Stark!” Fury barked through the intercom. “Why the hell is there a delivery van full of furniture parked at the guard gate?” Tony looked around blankly for a moment.

“You instructed me to order some appropriate furnishings for Captain Rogers’ quarters, Sir,” JARVIS supplied helpfully. “You were most specific concerning certain requirements, but that kind of custom framework will take a bit of time.  Also, Chihuly cannot make a chandelier that quickly, unfortunately, and yes, I did tell them how the glow would offset the Captain’s golden skin. They were unmoved.” 

Well, it was rather sterile in there, Tony considered. Steve was an artist.  He probably liked color and texture and artistic things. Furniture and lighting were a start. But it needed something else. Something artistic, because Steve was artistic, and Tony loved artistic things.  Like Steve.  Pepper might be surprised to hear that Tony loved artistic things, but it was nonetheless quite true.  Tony should see about some paint to go with the furniture.  “What’s your favorite color?” Tony asked curiously.

“Red,” Steve said.

“Purple,” Fury said. “Uh—ah—Look, you are not having furniture delivered, Stark. Captain Rogers’ quarters are perfectly fine the way they are.”  Considering Fury probably slept handing upside down, Tony decided to disregard, well, most anything he said.

“It’s fine, Tony, really. We won’t be here too much longer.  I think we can make do,” Steve said, but he was probably just being polite because Steve was very polite.  Most likely, he didn’t want to hurt Fury’s feelings by telling him that his quarters were boring and sterile and unartistic and decidedly lacking in red. 

“Sir,” JARVIS cut in. “The name of the man you had me search for is Henry Camp, an Army Master Sergeant currently on loan to SHIELD,” JARVIS informed him through the HUD.  Huh.  Why had he had wanted to know that?  He honestly couldn’t recall, but there was a fissure of something that rippled through him at JARVIS’s pronouncement. 

“Are you okay, Tony?” Steve asked, voice sounding strained with a concern. And that wasn’t good. Steve shouldn’t be worried about him.  It was his job to take care of—ah. _Camp_.  Military-observer-on-loan-to-SHIELD-Camp.  Well, then.

“Where’s he going now?” Fury asked uselessly over the intercom as Tony let go of Steve’s hand, which he’d been holding through the pass-through slot, and stalked to the door of the observation room.

“Uh, Director?” Steve said. “Where is the man that there was an…issue…with after I woke up?”

“Master Sgt. Camp is in Recovery, Captain. He’s going to be fine.  He’s very sorry, by the way, and will be dealt with—ah,” Fury broke off.  “He’s in a remote, but highly secure classified loca—aw, fuck, Stark!” Fury shouted as Tony raised his gauntleted hands because, really, if Fury thought locking him in was actually going to work, the man was even more of an incompetent prick than Tony had thought.

“Director, can you unlock the doors to my quarters?” Steve asked, which was stupid because Steve needed to stay where he was, which was not nearly far enough away from Camp, but it would have to do until he could get him to the island, but Steve was very brave, so there was that.

“I don’t think that would be a good idea, Captain, considering, but don’t worry, there is no way Stark will make it past your level. I’ve instituted our highest security protocols and—God dammit, Stark, quit overriding our security systems!” Fury seethed. 

Tony blasted his way out the door to the observation room and walked down the hall, headed for the elevator that would take him to one Mr. Henry Camp, who was currently three levels up in a recovery room, probably getting ice chips and watching game shows and unaware he was about to have a lesson in gravity. Which would’ve gone perfectly well, except the door to Steve’s quarters was suddenly knocked across the hallway in front of him, landing at an awkward angle in the hallway, blocking his way, and Steve was standing there all beautiful and perfect, and really, he should be in his room because the furniture would be here soon, and probably someone would need to sign for it.

“JARVIS, can you get something nice sent over from Neiman’s for the bed? Something in red, but not too garish?  Eh, well, a little garish, it’s me.  I have to kill someone, or I’d do it, but talk to Bryce over there, he’s a champ,” Tony said, in what he thought was a perfectly clear tone, but JARVIS seemed to be having some trouble understanding him. 

“You’re not killing anyone, Tony,” Steve said from the middle of the hallway.

“Well, it seems unlikely he’ll survive the fall, but you never know,” Tony said reasonably. “Can you budge over a bit, I need to get by.”

“No,” Steve replied placidly.

“I could move you,” Tony said.

“Feel free,” Steve responded, raising an eyebrow and smirking. Tony stared back at him through the HUD.  He wanted Steve out of the way so he could kill Camp.  Or maybe maim him.  But in some really horrible way, so that he could spend the rest of his life reflecting on how he shouldn’t touch Tony’s things.  But attempting to move a Steve who did not want to be moved would mean possibly hurting Steve, and he was physically incapable of doing that.  So, this was a conundrum.  But, he was very smart, so there were tons of options.  He would be thinking of them any minute now.  It was hard when Steve was right there, looking so perfect and wonderful and close enough to touch. 

“Move, please?” Tony asked plaintively.

“No, Tony. Leave Camp alone.  He just overreacted to an unexpected situation, and I handled it,” Steve replied.

“You’re very stubborn, you know that?” Tony asked through the faceplate.

“I’ve heard,” Steve replied evenly.

“I kind of find it adorable now,” Tony shouted in frustration, pointing a metal finger in Steve’s face, “but I’m pretty sure that’s the hormones, and I’m not going to like it much later.”

“I’ll bet,” Steve agreed. “Why don’t you come inside and sit down?”  Tony considered his options for a long moment.  But he wasn’t a genius for nothing.  He shrugged.  The important thing was to always keep your options open.  Tony could come inside and sit by Steve and kill Camp remotely while sitting by Steve.  This was the most brilliant plan ever.  Steve really was a tactical genius.

“JARVIS, can you hack into Camp’s medical file and order a really large dose of, oh, I don’t know, insulin or maybe something he’s allergic to, but, hey, how about like a triple dose of Viagra first? Just for shits and grins?” Tony suggested amiably.

“Sir, I am currently unable to take orders from you. And I should tell you that one more word from you will likely result in my protocols requiring me to report you to the F.B.I., New York Police Department, SHIELD, and possibly the D.E.A.,” JARVIS informed him. 

“Tony, can you take the helmet off?” Steve asked, sitting down on the edge of the tiny, sterile, unartistic and not-red bed. “I think you’ll feel better about the whole situation, if you do.”

Steve was trying to be reassuring, which was very sweet. Tony doubted he’d feel better about anything until Camp was a good six hours into an erection that wasn’t supposed to last more than four, but he sat down on the bed anyway and took his helmet off because Steve had asked him to and the idea of being able to actually look at Steve with his own eyes was too tempting, even as he looked up the dosage to weight instructions for Propofol. 

“Hi,” Steve said with a bright grin.

“Hi,” Tony replied with a charming smile. It may have been hard for Steve to tell how charming it was, what with Tony’s face buried in the crook of his neck.  Probably not a good angle.

“I’m going to try something. I think it will help you relax,” Steve informed him. 

“Is this some kind of Omega Jedi mind trick because, I gotta tell ya---guh—ah,” Tony stammered as Steve brushed his fingers down the back of Tony’s neck to the top of his spine, still encased in the suit. Tony felt his whole body go languid and heavy, limbs suddenly seeming to weigh too much to lift. 

“Dammit,” Tony muttered into Steve’s neck. The low rumble of Steve’s answering chuckle was somehow soothing. Tony wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, Steve stroking his fingers lightly up and down Tony’s neck.  It felt good in a way that was hard to describe, like the way you felt when you walked into your own home after months away and sunk your toes into the carpet.  An anchoring, settling feeling of comfort and familiarity encompassed him as he breathed in Steve’s scent, counted out Steve’s heartbeats and breaths. 

“I don’t want to kill Camp anymore,” Tony said. “Well, okay, that’s not true,” Tony amended in response to Steve’s raised eyebrow.  “But, I won’t.  Because it would be wrong, however wonderfully and completely satisfying.  I really am better now, I think.  I mean, at least I seem to have stopped wanting to bathe your feet.  For now, anyway.  We can talk.  What the hell was all that about, anyway?  I thought bonding hormones were supposed to make you all happy and stoned-like?”

“They do,” Steve said, pulling back a bit, but continuing his rhythmic stroking, as if Tony would revert to whatever state he’d been in if Steve stopped. It still felt nice, wonderful, really, so Tony wasn’t going to complain.  “But they also make Alphas very protective, even more so than usual.  The bonding process is so important, particularly to the Omega, so any interruption or interference can be a problem.  You just perceived Camp as a threat to the bonding.  But it’s fine, Tony. Really.  I think it’s safe to say that we’re fully bonded.”

“How can you tell? I mean, for sure?” Tony asked curiously.  Steve sighed and shifted a bit on the bed. 

“Like this,” Steve said, sinking to his knees on the floor in front of Tony. And, oh.  Oh.  Well, that was.  That was.  Every fiber of Tony’s being seemed to hum to life, stretching him taunt like a bow, skin prickling and mouth dry and he was harder than he thought he’d ever been and his Omega was kneeling in front of him and he was beautiful and perfect and so bright and he shone, he shone, he shone, and holy fuck---

“I hate to interrupt this scene of domestic bliss, but we have a situation forming with someone calling himself Krakoa. Some kind of living island in the Pacific.  God, I miss the days of radiation just resulting in giant lizards.  Anyway, are the two of you able to assist with handling it?” Fury asked over the intercom. 

“The doctors cleared me for duty right before Tony’s—uh—misunderstanding,” Steve replied, climbing back on the bed to sit next to Tony.

“And I’m back to the land of the not-hormonally challenged,” Tony said, reaching for the helmet where he’d set it down on the bed.

“Wonderful. I’ll have the mission files and all SHIELD’s information on this Krakoa available for review in just a moment,” Fury informed them.  “I’d like your assessment and mission plan within the hour.”

“Of course, Director,” Steve responded, moving to grab the SHIELD tablet from the bedside table.

“I just have one question, before we get started on this,” Tony said.

“Sure, Stark, what is it?” Fury replied.

“This island…does it have cable already installed or would that need to be added later?” Tony asked evenly.  Steve let his head fall back against the wall behind the bed.  If Steve was going to make this head banging thing a habit, they obviously needed a padded headboard, Tony thought.

In red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Camp is actually the Bulldozer, part of the Wrecking Crew, and he was in the Army. Krakoa is all Marvel. I totally did not make that up.


	3. Chapter 3

“This is Steve. He’s my Omega. We’re bonded,” Tony announced to Fury as he stepped out of the elevator.

“I know that, Stark,” Fury said, rubbing his forehead with his hand. “I thought he was okay now?” Fury asked, directing the question at Steve and ignoring Tony’s disgruntled look.

“Well, he isn’t trying to kill anyone, so I think he’s improving,” Steve commented dryly, as he followed Tony and Fury down the hall towards the conference room.

“This is Steve. He’s my Omega. We’re bonded,” Tony told the two SHIELD officers they passed at the duty desk. 

“Why does he keep saying that then?” Fury asked brusquely, pounding in the code for the door.

“It makes him feel better about leaving the isolation room, I think,” Steve offered.

“This is Steve. He’s my Omega.   We’re bonded,” Tony proclaimed to the woman pushing the cleaning cart down the hall towards the restrooms.  “I’m going to stop. Really.  Any minute now.”

Steve sighed. “It’s okay, Tony. I don’t mind.”

“If you’d just—“ Tony started.

“No,” Steve cut him off.

“But, if you’d only consider—“ Tony tried again.

“No,” Steve repeated. “I’m not wearing a t-shirt that says that on it, Tony, just no.  And don’t try to tell me that’s how everyone does it these days.  I looked.  It’s not.”

“How about some kind of scrolling hologram thing for your shield?” Tony suggested.

“Well, I guess that might be okay…” Steve said, furrowing his brow in thought.

“Really?” Tony asked excitedly.

“No,” Steve said.

“That’s not funny,” Tony complained, giving him the best annoyed look he could muster when Steve was so wonderful and perfect, even when he wasn’t being reasonable about this.

“That’s a little bit funny,” Steve responded evenly, taking a seat at the conference table in Fury’s office.

“You know, I love and adore you completely and want to basically worship you all the time, but you’re kind of a dick when you want to be. I’m just saying,” Tony replied. 

“We can put that on a shirt,” Steve offered, grinning. Tony threw his hands up in the air.  This whole bonding thing was far more complicated than he’d anticipated.  It didn’t help that they’d really only just met and didn’t actually know each other all that well beyond the whole being head over heels in love thing. 

“We could’ve worked this out on the island,” Tony groused, idly shifting his chair closer to Steve and reaching to lace his fingers through Steve’s hand, feeling instantly better when he could feel Steve’s warm skin beneath his.

“Because of all the talking through things we’d have done?” Steve asked, giving him a long look that went straight to Tony’s groin. “Actually, you’re probably not entirely wrong,” Steve admitted, because Steve was obviously very reasonable when he wasn’t being a stubborn, unreasonable jackass about things like custom t-shirts.  “I think you’re…insecure…about this because we haven’t…I mean, usually that would happen, but, um, you weren’t here yet when I was, ah, when I woke up…so…well.  There’s that, uh, issue.” 

“I am Tony Stark. I know we just met, but trust me, I’m not insecure. I mean, really, that just isn’t—wait.  In this scenario, is my insecurity cured by us having lots of, what, let’s face it, is sure to be incredible sex for like days on end?”  Tony asked.  “Then color me a fourteen year old fat girl with braces and pimples.”

Steve just blushed and ducked his head a bit as the other Avengers filed into the conference room.

“This is Steve. He’s my Omega. We’re bonded,” Tony announced with a grimace.  “I am actually trying to stop,” he assured Steve, at Steve’s rather annoyed look.  “Oh, and he’s also Captain America, but I currently find that less interesting.”

“Welcome to the team, Captain,” Bruce said with a crooked smile. “All I got was a coffee mug when I joined.  Congratulations, by the way.  Both of you.”

“Thanks, Brucie-bear. He turns into a giant green rage monster, by the way, so we’re probably going to need to kick him off the team, just to be on the safe side,” Tony told Steve in his best conspiratorial whisper. 

“No one is getting kicked off the team,” Steve replied. He was very generous and brave like that, but Bruce was a threat.

“I’m probably going to have to launch you into space. No offense. You were my favorite,” Tony told Bruce.

“None taken,” Bruce said, but it didn’t seem that was quite true, so Tony a mental note to start looking at acquiring rocket boosters from the black market. Surely the Russians needed some cash.

“Everyone please ignore Stark for the remainder of the meeting,” Fury instructed. Tony shot him an annoyed look, because, really, Tony was making the most important points.  Mostly that this was Steve, and he was Tony’s Omega, and they were bonded, and what was the point of this meeting if not that?  He was sure he’d sent the agenda to everyone while he and Steve were waiting down in the isolation room.  Did no one check their email anymore?

“It looks like the X-Men have handled Krakoa, so I am deactivating the Avengers for the time being. SHIELD will monitor the situation, but it seems to have been resolved.  As you may have noticed, we have a new team member, Steve Rogers—yes, Stark, we all know he’s your Omega and you’re bonded, put your hand down—who is also known as Captain America.  You’ve all read the file, I’m sure, but I’m sure the Captain will appreciate any help you can offer with assimilating, so I hope you will—“ Fury broke off, looking down at a text on his phone. 

He cleared his throat and shot an annoyed glare at Tony before continuing. “So, as I was saying, I hope you will all be able to offer some assistance to the Captain.   And no, Stark, quit bouncing in your seat.  I’m not going to “go over the rules for being around Steve” with the Avengers, and no, “Stay away from him, that means you, Barton,” is not rule number one.  And I’m pretty sure rule number four is illegal.”

“Congratulations on your bonding, Man of Iron!” Thor shouted heartily, because he did everything heartily. “And you as well, Captain!  Tony is a dear friend and valiant fighter.  I am truly pleased for your union.  How fortuitous to have a bonded pair on our team. We will no doubt be even more successful at vanquishing evildoers!”  Steve blinked at Thor and turned to Tony with a question clearly written on his face.

“All the damn time,” Tony said.  “You get used to it.”

“Okay, well, um, thanks Thor. That’s…very nice of you,” Steve replied, managing to sound both genuine and uncertain at the same time. 

“Yeah, thanks MC Hammer. Much appreciated.  Would you mind scooting your chair back, say, four feet or so?  You’re in the bubble,” Tony observed. 

“There’s no bubble,” Steve said, glaring at Tony.

“Of course, I do not wish to intrude on such a new bond. I will happily give you the space your comfort requires, my friends,” Thor said amiably, wheeling his chair back what Tony considered an acceptable distance. 

“When is he going to stop this shit?” Barton asked, nodding at Tony. He was a Beta.  He totally did not understand.  Also, he was in the bubble.  Tony had never much liked him, to be honest.  Of all the Avengers, he was easily the most expendable, let’s face it.

“We have to have lots of fantastic sex and I’ll feel better about things. Or fuck it, I won’t, but I’ll have had lots of fantastic sex, so it’s a win-win, as far as I can tell,” Tony told Clint.  Steve was slowly banging his head on the conference table.  He did that a lot. Tony wondered if it was some kind of tic.  Maybe Steve should see a doctor? 

“JARVIS?” Tony called into his phone. “We’re going to need lots of pillows for the bed, okay?  Oh, and can you change the Stark Industries billboard in Times Square for me?  I’m sending you the wording and a picture now.  Here, smile!” Tony told Steve as he held up the phone to take a picture.  Steve must still be adjusting to new technology because he grabbed the phone and crushed it to pieces before Tony could take the picture.  Tony should try to introduce things at a slower pace, he supposed. 

“No billboard, Tony,” Steve ordered, sighing in what Tony assumed was guilt over the broken phone.

 “But the pillows are good though, right?”  Tony asked.  “Guess you aren’t allergic to feathers or down anymore.  You’re old school, so probably no synthetics.  Maybe a nice blend…”

“Dude, I will have sex with you right here on the table if you’ll shut up about the fucking pillows,” Barton offered.

“No one is having sex on the conference table,” Fury said, then shook his head and rubbed his temples.

“Of course no one is having sex on the conference table. Don’t be ridiculous. There’s not even a single pillow,” Tony observed in disgust, wondering why everyone was staring at him like that, when it was patently obvious the conference room had no pillows. 

“Can I inject drugs into his neck again?” Natasha asked, twirling her pen in her hands and clicking the end of it repeatedly in a vaguely threatening fashion.

“Hey now—“ Tony started.

“No drugs. No injections.  Just…Tony, let’s go,” Steve said, rising from his chair and yanking Tony to a stand as he did.  He was so manly and forceful.  Tony probably shouldn’t like that in an Omega as much as he did, but he was Steve, and he was Tony’s Omega and they were bonded. 

“I never thought I’d ask someone to take one for the good of his country, but hallelujah,” Barton said, leaning back in his seat with a satisfied smirk. Tony did his best to shoot Barton an aggrieved look before he was pulled out the conference room door, stumbling behind Steve.

“Do you have a car?” Steve asked.

“I have like forty-eight cars,” Tony answered.

Steve closed his eyes. Maybe he liked cars.  Tony should get him a red one.  “Do you have a car here?” Steve clarified. 

“Oh, uh, yes. Yeah, Happy drove me. He’s probably still waiting.  Parking garage.  Level three,” Tony informed him.  They were finally leaving this place, and it’s sterile, boring unartistic rooms lacking in red pillows.  They made it to the parking area after only encountering another five people who needed to be informed of recent developments because Steve had nixed the sandwich board and leaflet ideas. 

“Hey Happy!” Tony waved at his driver. “This is Steve.  He’s my Omega.  We’re bonded.”

“Ms. Potts told me. That’s wonderful, Mr. Stark!  And it’s so nice to meet you, Captain.  Huge fan,” Happy said, reaching out a hand in greeting. 

“Uh, no. No touching.  There’s a bubble.  A memo should be coming around anytime now.  Really, I don’t understand why JARVIS hasn’t gotten that out yet.  How hard is it to put something on letterhead?” Tony wondered. 

“Can you take us home, Happy?” Steve asked.

“Sure, sure, climb in. Oh, ah, you might have to move stuff around. There was a delivery and the guy at SHIELD said they couldn’t take it, but it was to come to you, Mr. Stark. I got most of it in the trunk, but there were a few things that wouldn’t fit, so I had to shove them in the back,” Happy explained.

Happy opened the door to the back of the car for them, and Steve started to climb in, then stopped abruptly. Tony peered around his shoulder and made a happy noise of delight, brushing past Steve to slide into the back seat.  “Thank God!” Tony said smiling as he dumped the contents of the Neiman’s bag on the floor of the car and looking up at Steve proudly.  “Pillows!”


	4. Chapter 4

Steve slid in the back of the car beside Tony, shifting aside a couple of the pillows Tony had dumped out.  “Take us…um, wherever Tony lives, would you?” Steve requested.  Clearly, Steve was as anxious to get home as Tony was.  It set a warm feeling pooling in his stomach to know that his Omega wanted him so badly.  Finally, he could get Steve someplace safe and quiet and away from all those people who didn’t understand about the bubble, and also safe.  And there were lots of pillows at the Tower, so there was that. 

 “How ya doin’ there, Boss?” Happy asked as he maneuvered through downtown traffic.

“Apparently, I’m very insecure,” Tony said jovially, because he was pretty okay with that, considering the fix.

“Glad you’re finally starting to deal with that.  Knew bonding would be good for you,” Happy replied.  Huh?  What the hell was Happy even talking about?  He clearly didn’t understand.

“No, I’m insecure because of the sex,” Tony clarified.  “Lots and lots of sex.”

“I know.  I always thought it was just a cover for your deep-seated insecurities, probably because of your Dad and how he was never really around and when he was, he was always so hard on you and you just replaced real, meaningful affection with sex, but it wasn’t really my place to say, you know?  So, it’s good you have Captain Rogers and are finally dealing with this,” Happy responded with an approving smile and nod.  Tony blinked at his driver in confusion.

“What?  That’s not.  No, see, there are pillows for the sex,” Tony explained.  “Wait,” Tony blinked, looking to Steve for guidance and holding up one of the fringed, red pillows for emphasis.  “He doesn’t understand,” Tony stage-whispered to Steve.  “About the sex.” 

“I think he probably understands just fine,” Steve responded, sounding rather tired and rubbing at his forehead with one hand, but he grabbed Tony’s hand  with the other and hung on, so it was okay. 

Happy pulled the car into Tony’s private garage at the Tower and parked in the spot labeled ‘Stark.’ Granted, they were all labeled ‘Stark,’ so it actually wasn’t much of a feat.  Steve climbed out first, not waiting for Happy to open the door and turned to wait for Tony to clamor out.  Tony handed the briefcase with the armor to Happy.  “Take that to the lab and lock it up, would ya, Hap?” Tony asked, as Happy nodded in understanding and took one of the elevators to Tony’s lab. 

“Well.  We’re here.  Home sweet home.  I, ah, hope you like it,” Tony said, extending an arm toward the second elevator in invitation.

“I’m sure it will be great, Tony.  I grew up in the Depression.  It doesn’t take a lot,” Steve responded, sounding a bit sad, and Steve really shouldn’t sound like that, ever, really, so Tony probably needed to do something  to make it better.

“I could build a time machine and go back and stop the Depression,” Tony offered.  “Well, I’d probably need Reed for that, and he’s an asshole and he stretches and it’s totally creepy, but if you wanted, I could try.”

“No.  No time machine, Tony.  But…thanks.  That’s awful sweet of you to offer.  Probably not a good idea to mess with time, though,” Steve said, hitting the button to call the elevator.  Steve was very self-sacrificing like that.  Always putting the timeline first. 

When the doors opened, Tony stepped in the elevator behind Steve, bumping slightly into the broad expanse of his back and drawing in a long breath.  It felt so good to be home with Steve, in his own space, but with Steve there now, making it somehow more his, because now everything that belonged here was here, filling whatever empty space that had been waiting for Steve.  It felt good to be able to be this near him again.  He really needed to order some kind of loveseat or large chair for the SHIELD conference room.  That whole separate seating arrangement was clearly not going to work out.

They rode up the elevator in silence.  Tony assumed this was largely because they didn’t need words to communicate and also because Tony was busy sniffing Steve, who smelled positively wonderful, and he should see about bottling that scent, but he couldn’t sell it, of course not, because then other people could smell Steve and know how wonderful he smelled and that would be bad, because this was for him. 

“Which floor is your room?” Steve asked, staring at the panel of buttons.  Thank God Steve was so into this.  Tony really was a very lucky man. 

“Our room,” Tony corrected.  “Top floor.  Penthouse.  Just hit the red and gold button,” Tony answered, learning his face into the crook of Steve’s neck and taking in a deep whiff of Steve’s scent.  He may have taken a tiny lick, just because it was right there, and yep, tasted even better.  Or did it?  Hard to say.  He drew in another deep breath.  He needed to explore this dichotomy at some length. 

“Can you stop that for a minute?” Steve asked.

“It seems unlikely,” Tony replied.  “But theoretically, anything is possible, I suppose.”  Steve sighed, Tony quite enjoying the rumble that echoed through his chest, and turned and wrapped his arms around Tony, drawing him in close, rubbing a hand up and down Tony’s spine.  Ah. This was nice. 

“Hey.  You’re doing that on purpose.  That Omega mind trick thing.  Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to, trying to manipulate me like that.  It’s totally unfair, by the way,” Tony accused.

“Want me to stop?” Steve questioned lightly, stilling his hand.

“God no, it feels fantastic,” Tony replied.  The elevator pinged, and the doors slid open to Tony’s private suite.  Tony was relieved to see that Happy had sent the pillows up already, the Neiman’s bags piled by the bed. 

“You are going to drink this,” Steve said, handing Tony a bottle of water he’d taken from the mini-fridge by the bar.  “And then go to bed for a good twelve hours.”

“Outstanding,” Tony grinned, shucking off his shirt.

“To sleep,” Steve said evenly. 

“But, I’m not tired,” Tony said.  Or possibly whined.  “I’m insecure. Remember?  Wildly insecure. Even Happy could tell.”

“Yes, I’m beginning to see that quite clearly,” Steve replied, hi s mouth flattening into a thin line. 

“And I have pillows,” Tony said, holding up one of the round ones with an ‘S’ embroidered on it. 

“I…appreciate the thought behind that, Tony.  I think, anyway.  You’re…trying, I know.  Really.  But, just trust me.  You need to drink this and then go to sleep.  When you wake up, we’ll talk about…everything.   I promise,” Steve said.  “I’ll stay with you while you sleep, okay?”  He’d obviously screwed this up in record time.  The whole bonding thing was supposed to be easy and natural and virtually un-screw-up-able, but of course, Tony was an overachiever and had managed to somehow fuck up biology.  

Because Tony hadn’t been there when Steve woke up and needed him and there had been an _incident_.  That was clearly on Tony because Tony had ignored Fury’s first attempts to get him to come to SHIELD where Steve needed him.   There hadn’t been an island or food or furniture or pillows, and no one had gotten any of his memos, and Fury had ignored his agenda items, the bastard.  He’d sent the memo in triplicate, copied Hill and everything, for once following SHIELD protocols because it was Steve.  He hadn’t even been able to deal with Camp properly, though he still had a few ideas on that score. 

So, pretty much fucking up Alpha 101 as far as bonding went.  Keep your Omega safe and happy and comfortable, and Tony had managed to screw up all three in a few short hours, and now Steve wanted him to sleep with him, just sleep, which sounded both amazing and awful.  He was probably the only Alpha in history who fucked up the bonding so badly that his Omega didn’t want him.  What good was biology if he had to deal with Steve’s disappointment anyway?

“Please just trust me that you’ll feel better about this whole thing after you get a bit of sleep?  Clear your head.  You…you need to think about things…about what you’re really comfortable with before…well, just sleep, okay?” Steve prodded, placing a hand on Tony’s lower back and propelling him towards the bed.  Tony sprawled on top of the covers in a flop, then turned over to stare at the ceiling while Steve lay down next to him.  He took a long drink from the bottle of water, because Steve had said he should, and placed it on the bedside table.  It was nice curled up here next to Steve, he had to admit.  Not the kind of nice he’d had in mind, but still nice.  He grabbed a pillow and handed it to Steve for his head.  Just in case. 

“Thanks,” Steve said.  Tony was probably projecting, but he thought he detected a note of fondness at Tony’s consideration. 

“JARVIS, dim the lights,” Tony instructed, shifting closer to Steve.  If his Omega wanted him to sleep, he would sleep.  Steve grabbed one of his hands and placed it over his own heart, letting Tony feel the steady beat and rhythmic in and out of Steve’s breathing.  It was surprisingly comforting, pressed against Steve like this, being able to breathe in his scent, feel the evidence beneath his hand that Steve was alive and calm and safe.   Or maybe not so surprising. 

 “Don’t wake us unless there’s an emergency,” Tony ordered, letting his eyes close, finding the edges of exhaustion creeping in. 

“Why the hell did I say that?” Tony muttered three hours later as the alarm blared, and he climbed into the armor.  “It’s practically an engraved invitation to supervillains.  I blame you.  You and your stupid hormones and wonderful smell and…other stuff,” Tony grumbled at Steve, dressed in his uniform and clutching the shield, waiting for Tony.  Evil robots.  Again.  Tony was starting to take it personally.  He tramped down on the automatic urge to beg Steve not to go.  Of course Steve was going to go.  He was Captain America. 

When the alarm had gone off a few minutes earlier, Tony had woken in a startle from a deep sleep, limbs still wrapped around Steve, heart pounding in his chest.  Steve had already been in motion, tapping on a phone he must have gotten from Fury because it was crap.  “Something called ‘Doombots’?” Steve had informed him as he looked down at the phone’s screen, raised eyebrows making it a question. 

Tony had just blinked at him, nodding his head a bit in answer.  “Must be a Tuesday,” Tony had replied to Steve’s frown.

“Doesn’t seem to bode well,” Steve had said, but there had been a ghost of a smile lurking there, so Tony hadn’t worried.  “You okay?” Steve had asked then, sounding concerned.   

“Yeah.  Yeah, I’m good.  Really,” Tony had assured him, holding a hand up.  “That was…God.  I don’t know what the hell that was.  JARVIS, shut that alarm off,” he said.  “Let’s just get going,” he told Steve, clutching at his head a bit.  Between the headache and sluggish feeling left over from the hormones, the last thing he needed was the alarm blaring through the room. 

“SHIELD sent my stuff over.  I’ll just…meet you…uh…” Steve had stammered a bit, looking around. 

“Launching platform.  Two floors down.  Four minutes, tops,” Tony said, standing and heading for the door, only to trip over a pile of pillows.  Good Christ, pillows?  What the fuck had he been thinking?  “Sorry.  About the pillow thing.  And the other stuff.  That was the hormones.  I don’t even know. This—“ he had said, waving  his hand between them. “I wasn’t really prepared for this.  I mean, its not like I went to SHIELD looking to bond.  Never really wanted anything like that.  Always tried to avoid it, to be honest.  And with what we do, it just.  This—well.   Just—ah, fuck it, see you in a minute.”  It had taken every bit of willpower to walk away from Steve’s slight frown and head for the elevator to the lab where the armor waited. 

As he got the armor on, he tried to think back over the past few hours.  It was all a bit blurry and disoriented, pictures and feelings all wrapped up together in some nonsequential way that made it all make even less sense.  Showing up at SHIELD, messing with Fury’s desk…Steve.  God, _Steve_.  Just thinking about him… _Fuck, Stark, get it together_ , he admonished himself. 

Then…there had been an island…had the Avengers fought an island?  He scanned the HUD feed, and found a rather large delivery order from Le Bernadin waiting for confirmation, thirty-two emails from real estate agents promising an island paradise any Omega would love, a spectacularly huge bill from Neiman’s,  a somewhat concerning list of overdose information for various drugs and a note about two solid rocket boosters possibly located in Novosibirsk.  What the holy hell had he been doing while all hormoned-up?  He was pretty sure he didn’t want to know the exact details.  Embrace the fugue. 

So there they were, minutes later, Tony snapping the faceplate down and Steve in his uniform hoisting the shield.  Tony thought he was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.  That could be the hormones, but objectively, it might actually be true. “Ready?” Tony asked through the helmet. 

Steve nodded, finding a foothold on Tony’s boot and wrapping an arm around Tony’s shoulders, grasping one of the arm joints for purchase.  “The rest of the team is meeting us there,” Steve informed him.  Tony tightened his grip around Steve’s waist and lifted off the launching platform into the air.

“Don’t worry.  Not going to drop you, Cap,” Tony said as he picked up speed. 

“Wasn’t worried,” Steve responded, looking down, but otherwise seeming unconcerned.  He saw the smoke rising from where the Doombots were wreaking havoc in midtown long before they arrived on the scene.  The rest of the team was there already, Hulk gleefully smashing a bot into a nearby wall, crumbling both robot and wall.  Tony cringed. That was going on the tab.

Tony set Steve down and turned to blast one of the oncoming Doombots.  Hulk put down his, well, now pieces of Doombot and took two giant steps backward.  He grinned and pointed at Steve.  “Bubble,” Hulk said proudly.  Good Lord, Tony was never going to hear the end of this from Barton.  _God-damned hormones._

“Yeah, I know.  Sorry,” Tony apologized at Steve’s look.  “Seemed like a good idea at the time, I guess.” 

“You threatened to shoot Bruce into space,” Steve informed him.  Ah, rockets, Tony thought with a wince.  He probably owed Bruce an apology.  And a kidney.  Or something.  “I think that was Hulk’s way of saying he didn’t hold it against you,” Steve told him, tossing the shield and knocking the head off one of the approaching robots.  Great, so he’d spent the past few hours fucking up at being an Alpha, mother hen-ing Captain America and generally being a dick to the rest of the team.  Fabulous.    This day was going so well. 

“Behind you!” Steve shouted, and Tony turned to repulsor another bot, but an explosive arrow got there first.

“Dude, pay attention.  That one was almost in the fucking bubble,” Barton crowed with mock horror though the comm.  “Doom clearly did not get your memo.  And it had bullet points and everything.” 

Tony really hated Barton sometimes.

“Personally, I liked the illustrations,” Widow informed them.  “They were very informative.” Steve was tossing his shield through a group of advancing robots like they were bowling pins, and generally looking ridiculously competent, though he paused ever so briefly at Widow’s teasing before going back to his task.  Tony decided it was time for some recon work and took to the air. 

“We’ve got a half dozen of them coming down Eighth,” Tony told the team. 

“I have them Iron Man!” Thor announced in the way only Thor could.  “Have no fear.  They shall be made to respect the bubble!”  Tony seriously considered just leaving the battle to the rest of the team and finding a nice paper bag to put over his head.  But there was Steve and, _Jesus-fucking-Christ_ , something could happen.  He ground his teeth together and shook his head in frustration as he dove back into the fray to engage a Doombot trying to make a bus into a battering ram.  Steve was giving orders, which the team was actually following, miracle of miracles, even Tony, because it would make Steve happy.  Well, he mostly listened anyway, so huge leap ahead, people, best to  focus on that. 

They worked together, as one, all of them better for it, but even Tony could feel the difference when it was him and Steve.  He would have had to ask Steve what kind of books he liked, but if he landed and pointed his repulsors at Steve, Steve just raised the shield and directed the energy blast toward the approaching robots or Steve would raise his hand and Tony would grab him and toss him on the back of one of the bigger ones, giving Steve and his shield access to the vulnerable necks, as if everything was just done by unspoken agreement worked out in advance.  It was that easy, that natural. 

Tony blasted another one with his repulsors and started to head back into air when something slammed into him from behind, knocking him through the bus windows and out the other side into a storefront.  He came to a moment later looking up at a row of cupcakes in confusion.  He wondered what Steve’s favorite— _Oh, for fuck’s sake_ , Tony thought, banging his helmet with his hand in an effort to clear his head.  He struggled up, always feeling a bit like a turtle on its back when he landed like this, and made his way out of the broken storefront window to confront whatever it was that had knocked into him.

Except he was too late, because his Omega straddling a large Doombot, beating the ever-loving shit out of it with shield and fists.  “That is Tony Stark,” Steve shouted, using the shield to cut through the robot’s arm at the shoulder.  “He’s my Alpha,” Steve said, ripping wires and armor off the thing’s chestplate.  “We’re bonded,” Steve said as he brought the shield down on the thing’s face with a sickening crunch.

Honestly, Tony couldn’t wait to fuck him. No, really.  He literally couldn’t wait.  If he and Steve didn’t leave now, those TV helicopters hovering overhead were going to get a stern letter from the FCC. 

The armor didn’t allow just the groin piece to come off.  In retrospect, a glaring design flaw that he should really remedy as soon as possible.  Which meant they needed to get back to the Tower.  The team could handle the rest of the mop-up.  Or not.  Really, midtown could use some renovation. 

“Tony, don’t you even think about it,” Widow warned over the two-way comm.

“Too late?” Tony replied, walking over towards where Steve was still straddling the now useless pieces of Doombot.  “No, I know.  I do.  I know.  I’m not—I’m really not.  I mean it.  I’m not going to do anything.  He’d hate it if we left a mission and someone got hurt.  I know that.”

“So would you, Tony,” Widow replied.  “This is just all new to you.  Both of you.  And then this happens, when you should be just enjoying each other.  I get it, really.  At least as well as any Beta can.  Just don’t do anything stupid and mess this up.  You two…I don’t know if you could see it…but the two of you…you’re good together, Tony.  Don’t fuck this up.”

“What if I already did?” Tony questioned. 

“If those Doombot collectibles down there your Omega just made are any indication, you haven’t,” Widow responded softly.  Tony nodded in reply, though he knew she couldn’t see him.  He moved over to where Steve still sat on top of the Doombot, noticing that Steve was breathing heavily and the  Doombot’s still-attached arm hard enough to leave finger impressions in the metal.

“Uh…you okay, there?” Tony asked after flipping the faceplate up. 

“Fine,” Steve bit out, standing up.  He gave a sharp kick to the Doombot’s head, sending the head flying off and through the cupcake store window.  Maybe Steve didn’t care for cupcakes.  He was probably more of a pie kind of guy. 

“Okay, well.  That…that was…something,” Tony said, looking down at the destroyed robot.  “I’m just going to go.  Now.  Away.  You seem fine.  Got a handle on it and all,” Tony observed, waving a hand vaguely in the direction of the vanished Doombot head.  He really needed to get out of here before he just gave up and mounted Captain America in front of a live television audience.  Though, that would probably be great for ratings. 

“So, yeah.  Um.  Catch you later, big guy,” Tony said as he flipped the faceplate back down again to hide his grimace of pain.  Armor really rubbed against a giant erection.  That and the fucking icing problem were obviously the two issues that he had neglected during the initial design phase.  You’d have really thought at least the erection thing would’ve occurred to him.  All things considered. 

“Check on Thor.  I think he had a group of these things holed up in an…apple?  If that makes any sense, go help out,” Steve ordered, staring off into the distance, voice sounding oddly tight with something, sending a schism of unease down Tony’s spine, but he quickly dismissed that in the desire to get the holy crap away from Steve before he did something truly stupid like think about how those bus seats were perfectly good substitutes for pillows.

The battle, such as it was, ended up being mostly clean-up from that point.  Hulk and Thor had taken down the bulk of the Doombots, and Hawkeye, Widow and SHIELD handled whatever made it outside the perimeter Steve had set.  They all gathered when it was over, gave brief reports to Fury.  Tony tried to apologize for his earlier behavior, but everyone just kept congratulating he and Steve and patting him on the back. 

“I don’t want to shoot you into space,” Tony said, lifting the faceplate after Bruce had de-Hulked.  “I mean, sometimes all that freaking tea is annoying, but I’m not going to overreact about it,” he teased, trying to lighten things. 

“I know, Tony.  It’s okay.  And also, I’d like to see you try, so there’s that,” Bruce responded with a small smile as he hitched his pants around his waist as best he could.  “I’m an Alpha.  When Betty and I—well.  You heard about Harlem, I take it? I get it. Don’t worry.”

“Still.  Thanks, Bruce.  I mean it. This…I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, and Steve…he’s…he’s everything.  But…I don’t know how to do this.  I don’t think I’m made this way.  There’s something wrong with me. I’m not doing this right, and he should have someone who knows how to do this right, not some screw up like me,” Tony said, eyes finding Steve’s blond head where he’d removed the cowl and was talking over the battle with Fury.  “But now…now, I can’t let that happen.  I can’t.  Even if it’s better for him.  I just can’t.  I’m a selfish son-of-a-bitch, Bruce, but I can’t do it.”

“Tony…none of us ever know what we’re doing.  Welcome to being an Alpha,” Bruce replied, clapping him on the shoulder in what Tony assumed was a gesture of solidarity.  “And I’d advise letting Steve decide what or who is best for him.  Just a suggestion from your fellow screwed-up Alpha.”  Tony nodded his thanks and Bruce moved away, leaving Tony standing by himself until Steve walked over to stand beside him.

“I think that went well, all in all, though I have to admit, I don’t have much of a bar for comparison for evil robot attacks,” Steve said as he surveyed the damage around them. Steve ducked his head a bit and cleared his throat before continuing. 

“Well,” Tony hesitated.  “To be honest…that actually went surprisingly well.  Guess maybe there is something to this whole bonding thing.  Might be useful.  For battle, I mean.  Could be good.  Ugh, you and me, I think, we did…we were…good.  Better.  I’ll have to have JARVIS run some analysis to confirm, of course.  But it—ah—it felt like maybe.  So, there’s that.”  _Why don’t you just ask his favorite cupcake flavor_ , Tony thought bitterly.  Good Lord.  Just stop using words.  Full stop. Do not pass Go.

Steve nodded a bit jerkily, once.  “I should probably go finish up with Fury,” Steve said.  “See if we can help with any of the clean-up.”

“They can bill me,” Tony replied in annoyance.  “I’ve had fucking enough of this day. I think I’ve earned a drink.  Or five.”

“Oh.  Well.  Okay.  I guess….I guess I’ll see you back at the Tower then,” Steve said, though his voice sounded odd to Tony’s ears.  Tense and strained, sound of it grated on Tony’s nerves, like nails on a blackboard, and Steve wasn’t looking at him, but just staring off at nothing in the distance, a bleak sort of tightness contorting his features.

Steve shouldn’t sound like that, but Tony had put that there somehow, and now he didn’t know what he was supposed to do or say to fix it.  Everything he’d done so far had been wrong, had ended up with his Omega barely able to look at him and obviously upset and it hurt, it hurt deep down in his gut like someone had taken something and jabbed it in and twisted and kept twisting and he just wanted it to stop, just stop, but he didn’t know how to make that happen. 

His Omega was unhappy and wouldn’t look at him and wanted to sleep, just sleep, with him and would just meet him back at the Tower, no big deal.  Except that it meant he was going to leave Tony after a battle, after he’d been in danger and something could’ve happened, and he was just going to walk away and _meet_ Tony, and it was horrible and Tony couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t get air and everything was too loud and too close, pressing in on him, and there was no room, no space, and it _hurt_.

Tony reached out an armored hand to grab Steve’s shoulder, bringing Steve’s head around to look at him in question.  “It says ‘Stark’ on the side,” Tony mumbled.  “That’s…that’s where you should go.  To meet.  Me.  Meet me. Later.  When you’re done.  Are you tired?  I’m tired.  Big battle and all that.  We could sleep.  I could sleep.  You should sleep,” Tony offered desperately. 

“Sure, Tony,” Steve said without looking at him.  “If that’s—sure.  That’s fine.  It’s--I’ll see you there.”  He picked up the shield and walked back over to Fury and Natasha, who had their little spy heads tucked together, probably trading world domination strategies and Pinterest favorites.  Tony saw Natasha give Steve a sharp, questioning look, but he couldn’t hear what Steve said in response.  Natasha shot him a glare though, so he assumed whatever Steve had said had clued her in to how much of a fuck-up he was.  He snapped the faceplate down and took to the air, heading back to the Tower before anyone could reinforce just how much he’d messed things up.

A few drinks, give or take a few, later, and Tony was leaning against the now-padded headboard of his bed, carefully plucking the feathers from one of the pillows that had littered the floor of his bedroom. 

“He hates me, he loves me not,” Tony sing-songed to himself as he pulled one feather after another out.  There was a firm knock on the door that Tony studiously ignored.   Then another.  And another.  And now there was just continuous knocking that was really a lot more like pounding, come to think of it.

“Sir, Captain Rogers is requesting entrance,” JARVIS informed him.  Damn.  Now that Steve was asking to come in, he really couldn’t say no.  This bonding thing really interfered with his ability to just ignore problems until they inevitably gave up and went away.

Steve stepped in, looking perfect, of course. He’d showered and his hair was still slightly dam.  He had changed out of his uniform into casual clothes, khakis and an entirely too-tight t-shirt that he was obviously going to have to wear all the time, except whenever he left the Tower.  Tony wondered if they made burkas in red, white and blue.  He tipped his glass towards Steve in salute. 

“I see you found your way back,” Tony slurred.  “Feel free to take a load off,” Tony suggested, pointing the tumbler of amber liquid at the bed.  “Hard day of unplanned bonding, SHIELD briefings, hormone-crazed Alphas, evil robot attacks and all that.  You can rank those according to suckitude, if you like.”

“You’re drunk,” Steve observed evenly, but his hands were fisted at his sides.  He was very astute like— _ah, shut the fuck up already_ , Tony told himself.  _We are not going to do that_.  “You—you needed to get drunk.  Okay. Okay.  I guess…I guess that answers my question.”  There was a question?  Had Steve asked for something?  He sounded upset.  Tony had obviously missed something else that Steve had needed.  He took another drink, relishing the burn of the liquid down his throat. 

Steve shifted his stance, bracing his legs apart and moving his hands to clasp together behind his back.  Tony recognized a military stance when he saw one.  “I know you didn’t plan on this happening when you came to SHIELD.  I understand.  You didn’t want to bond.  I’ve read your file.  I know about your life and…how you like to live it.  That’s obviously up to you,” Steve said, mouth flattening into a hard line that looked like disapproval trying desperately not to get out.  Tony stared at him blankly, trying to follow Steve’s line of thought and not how the parade rest stance made Steve’s shoulders splay a bit, stretching the t-shirt across the muscles of his stomach. 

“It was an unusual situation.  No one expected it.  Me, I mean.  To wake up like that.  And then you were there, and we were compatible, and it just happened.  Neither of us were prepared.  There were all the hormones and things got…kind of crazy.  But that’s just biology.  It doesn’t have to rule your life, Tony.  That’s not fair,” Steve continued.

 “You weren’t looking to suddenly have a lifetime commitment with…with someone like me… thrown at you just because Fury asked you to help me get to know the team,” Steve said, taking a deep breath.  “I…after the robot that attacked you.  I—well, I saw you.  I know…I know I’m not exactly what Alphas are looking for.  I get it, I do.  I knew that when I took the serum.  But this…what I can do, who I am now…it isn’t something I can just put away,” Steve explained.  Tony was sure his mouth had dropped open in astonishment, but he was too stunned to work any words out yet. 

“Pepper mentioned something about ways to break the bond.  I don’t know if that’s possible, but…I understand if that’s what you want.  I don’t want to hold you to something that you aren’t comfortable with, Tony.  If you want out, just say so,” Steve said, blue eyes boring into his.

The hell?  Steve would be willing to try to break the bond if Tony wanted?  If _Tony_ wanted?  Steve thought he wasn’t what Alphas would want?  Wasn’t what Tony wanted?  Had he fallen into some weird alternate universe?  That wasn’t actually out of the question. Fucking Reed.  Tony shook his head to try to clear the alcohol haze he’d worked up.  He struggled to a stand and walked over to where Steve stood a few steps  inside the door, looking up at him, perfect, beautiful, wonderful Steve who wanted to leave him because he thought Tony didn’t want an Omega who also happened to be Captain America and could break Tony in two if he wanted.

“Fuck that shit,” Tony said and grabbed Steve’s hair in his fist, pulling Steve’s head down for a bruising kiss.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note the rating change. Ahem. *dusts off porn muse*

Really, the whole ‘unspoken communication’ thing was not going as well as he’d hoped, considering that his Omega had just brushed aside his attempt to convince him that everything was fine by ignoring the actual issue and doing something fun instead. Instead, Steve met Tony’s advance with heavy hands pressing on his shoulders, holding him at arm’s length with annoyingly little effort, and a stern and vaguely disappointed look on his face.

“You’re drunk, Tony,” Steve reminded him. “You should sober up. Then we can talk about…about options.”

“Donwanna talk,” Tony mumbled petulantly. “No talking.  Or we’ll talk later.  Much, much later.  Want…you.  I want you.  You, just like this.  You’re great. Fantastic.  Amazing.  Perfect.  Can we just—.  And wait, there are no options.  No, no options.  None. We don’t need to talk about them because there aren’t any,” Tony said, and he could hear the pitch of his voice approaching panic because now Steve was talking about options and by ‘options’ he meant ways that Steve could leave Tony, but that wasn’t possible, ergo there were no options.  That was just logic, really. 

“You shouldn’t make any kind of life-changing decisions while you are under the influence of alcohol, Tony,” Steve advised him.

“Well, now you’re just being unrealistic,” Tony groused.  

“Tony,” Steve said with a sigh. “You think you want this…want me…right now, but you’ve had a helluva day, with the hormones and then the battle.  You barely slept and you’re…compromised.  Look, I know…I know things have changed, social progress and all.  Fury gave me a pamphlet.  And that’s wonderful,” Steve said.  And it was, obviously, because it had really started with Steve, so it had to be, Tony thought, nodding vigorously and trying rather ineffectually to squirm out from where Steve’s hands were keeping him pinned in place.  “But you don’t just change thousands of years of biology like that.  When you’re…better…you’ll…well, why don’t you just sleep it off, okay?  We can talk tomorrow, when you’ve had a chance to clear your head.”

“My head is completely clear,” Tony assured him adamantly. “I mean.  Wait.  Look, what I’m trying to say is that you don’t need to worry.  At all.  At all, at all, at all.  At. All.  Cannot emphasize that enough.  I want this, I do.  I swear.  It isn’t the hormones or the alcohol, it’s you and how this feels, it’s…I don’t know what it’s like for you, but…I…you…I keep having these thoughts run through my head, and they sound like the fucking hormones talking, I know, but it’s all ‘Steve is so brave, Steve is so smart, Steve is so wonderful, Steve this and Steve that’ and it’s fucking annoying, is what it is, but okay, well, maybe it is the hormones a little, but the thing of it is…the thing of it is…these thoughts, they’re all true.  You actually are those ridiculous things my fuzzy, hormone-addled brain thinks about you, and yes, maybe it took the bonding to notice those things about you this quickly, but I would have.  Eventually.  I would have noticed.  But by then, I’d have probably screwed up any chance I had with you by being me, so yay bonding, thanks for the assist,” Tony said, mouth twisting in a mockery of a smile.

“ And if you think I’m going to let you go…let this…this feeling I get when I look at you, like I’m the fucking luckiest son-of-a-bitch on the planet…lose this, you, because you can kick my ass, you have another thing coming,” Tony said emphatically.  “I should, I know.  I messed this up from the get-go.  I should let you go, really, I should.  I get that.  Let you find someone worthy of you, who deserves this…this gift…but I can’t do that, Steve, I can’t,” he continued, realizing that at some point, Steve had released his shoulders and gone quiet.  He was just staring at Tony now, arms slack and unmoving, so he brought his hands up to cup Steve’s jaw, pulling his head down a bit so he could look directly at him and slotting himself closer into Steve’s space.

 “I can’t even say I wish that I could,” Tony told him, voice breaking a bit as he tried, tried, to explain it, when it was all too much to put in words.  “I don’t.  I’m a selfish bastard, and I want this more than I’ve ever wanted anything.  You…this…it’s pure.  And true. And right, so fucking right, and nothing else in my life has ever been those things, Steve, and I can’t, I just can’t, and so help me God, and if anyone so much as tries to undo this somehow, I will lay waste to them, Steve, don’t think I won’t, so it would really be a service to mankind if you would just, by all that is Holy and good, never, ever speak of options again, because God-damn it, now I’ve called the armor.  JARVIS!  Please override that thing before it knocks down the door and, I don’t know, hugs Steve until he sees reason,” Tony called out, throwing his hands in the air in frustration.

“Okay, Tony,” Steve said, eyes bright with something Tony was afraid to look at too long.

“Okay? Like, okay-okay?” Tony stammered.  “Or like, I’m going to pat Tony on the head like a good Alpha until he isn’t crazy and within fifty feet of armored metal suits-okay?”

“Okay, like…” Steve started, and then cut himself off, a hint of redness creeping across his cheekbones as he sank to his knees in front of Tony, burying his head against Tony’s stomach for a moment before peeling back to look up at him.

It wasn’t like before, when they’d been in the isolation room and Tony had still been under the effects of the hormones. This was…different, yes, not such an intense, overwhelming rush of feeling, more like everything clicked into place, a warm, bone-deep pit of contentment and joy welling up inside him because this was Steve and he was Tony’s Omega and they were bonded, and everything was just as it should be because Steve was here, kneeling before him, and he was Tony’s, and—

Tony crossed the room in quick steps and then came back to stand before Steve with his offering.

“Really?” Steve asked, but he was trying to keep from smiling, so it was okay. Okay-okay, even.

“Yeah, I don’t even know. If it’s any consolation at all, there’s a part of me that can’t believe I did that. But…can you just…you know—“ Tony requested hopefully. 

Steve gave a low sigh and ducked his head a bit, though Tony caught the smile as he did it, and grabbed the large, flat pillow from Tony’s hand and put it on the floor in front of him and then moved to kneel on top of it. “Better?” Steve asked.

“Yes. Yes, thank you.  That’s good. I’m good. Are you good?” Tony questioned, looking Steve up and down. 

“I’m good, Tony,” Steve promised.

 “I could get rugs, maybe throw some extra padding underneath.  Or we could try one of those air mattresses.  I’d have to reinforce it, of course.  Maybe Kevlar.  I’d need to run some diagnostics.  Bet if I upped the tensile strength, it would be—“  Tony stopped speaking abruptly when Steve leaned forward and rubbed his head against Tony’s stomach.  Rationally, he’d had enough experiences in his life to know that this was the traditional position of an Omega submitting to his or her Alpha.  Hell, half the porn on the planet started out with some faux-Omega kneeling in front of a supposed Alpha. 

How was it then that Tony felt so humbled, so powerless as he stood here, holding everything that mattered in his hands? How was he supposed to do this without screwing things up and making Steve think of options, which totally did not exist, so let’s just stop even thinking that word, right now.  He should have JARVIS scrub it from any online dictionaries or libraries or e-books and replace it with Voldemort.  That would be ironic. Okay, sure, only for him, but still. 

“I’m terrified. Of this.  Of you.  Of losing you or keeping you, but making you hate me, and I don’t know which one would be worse.  The stupid pillows, the food, the furniture, the damn island…I keep thinking if I just…just…give you enough, you won’t realize how little I have to give,” Tony confessed hissing out a low gulp of air that was almost a sob.  He wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck and pulling him closer as he carded fingers through Steve’s hair.  He bent a little, letting his head bow down and rest on Steve’s broad shoulder. 

“Tony,” Steve said softly, pulling back far enough so he could grasp Tony’s arms, pulling him down in front of Steve so they were almost eye level. “I see you and…I don’t want to look at anything else.  You…you’re…look at what you’ve done.  What you have chosen to do.  You have no idea how hard it is…how difficult it has been not to just—“ Steve stopped himself, shaking his head. 

“You think you have a running commentary of thoughts about me?” Steve asked. “I guarantee you it is nothing on how often I find myself in awe over brilliant, how amazing, how incredibly brave you are to do what you do, with no serum, no powers, just you.  And you…that you would…you would want me, even like this?  That you would not only understand what I have to do, but would be there beside me?” Steve said, and Tony could hear the genuine amazement in his voice.  “You think you have nothing to give? How can you...you have no idea. You...I can hardly breathe when I look at you, I’m so afraid you’re going to wake up from the hormones and realize you don’t want this.  I still think you might, no matter what you say,” Steve admitted, looking down at the floor.  “Maybe I’m just selfish enough to let myself believe you though.”

“Steve…God, Steve,” Tony murmured, placing two fingers under Steve’s jaw and drawing Steve’s gaze back to his. “We’re both idiots, you know?  Can you believe they let us save the world.  Suckers,”  Tony said, shaking his head and grinning at the small huff of laughter from Steve.  He leaned in to place a light kiss on Steve’s lips.  Well, he intended to, anyway.  Really, it was going to be romantic as hell. 

It was just that as soon as his lips brushed Steve’s, tasted Steve’s mouth, he wanted more, nothing was enough, it couldn’t possibly be enough, and something wound its way down his spine, that itchy heat thing that pooled low in his belly, coiling down deep and driving him insane, he was sure he would come apart, skin sloughing off in waves if he wasn’t able to touch and taste and feel, God, he needed to feel, just feel. As if from a distance, he heard a low rumbling sound and realized it was probably coming from him, and he realized he was hard and straining with need.  He felt Steve shudder against him, swaying a bit, and thought he should probably ask if Steve was alright, but then his hands brushed the warm skin where Steve’s shirt met his pants and that answered whatever question his mind was still capable of concerning itself with.

Tony’s hands gripped Steve’s shirt and pulled, drawing him closer and capturing his mouth, nothing chaste about it this time, just tongue and teeth and heat, his hands gripping each side of Steve’s head, pulling his mouth open for Tony’s tongue to dart in, tilting his head just so to find the right angle to allow Tony in deeper, tongue warring with Steve’s until he coaxed the tip of Steve’s tongue into his mouth. He managed to pull back long enough to choke out a quick, “Bed, now,” but he couldn’t let go of Steve long enough to let them get up and make it there, a frustrated growl echoing forth as he ran his hands under Steve’s shirt, thumbs grazing over taut nipples as one hand gripped at Steve’s shoulder and the other traced down the ripples of muscle to ghost lightly over the trail of soft, springy hair just below Steve’s navel.

“We have a pillow,” Steve said tightly, breath coming in pants. Tony beamed at him.

Steve was so resourceful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If porn isn't for you, then they lived happily ever after. The End.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for lots of porn and improper use of biology and anatomy. Enjoy!

Tony’s hands immediately set about undoing Steve’s belt and fly, and why was it he could solder together tiny pieces of delicate arc reactor in a cave in Afghanistan under threat of waterboarding and could not freaking undo a button to save his life?  And that honestly might be what was at stake here, because he was fairly certain he was going to be the first person to die of an erection if he did not get inside Steve yesterday.  He was clearly going to have to buy, oh God, it was freaking Dockers, and have them, first, obviously never sell anything to Steve again, goes without saying, because Dockers?  Just no.  And second, create Velcro flies because this was entirely too complicated for, you know, geniuses, and how did people even work this without there being yanking involved where there probably shouldn’t be yanking?

Tony was saved by Steve’s sure hands, which managed to work his belt off and unbutton and unzip with comparative easy, Tony could only assume to do super-soldier enhancements.  Tony’s hands, freed from their highly complex task, roamed over Steve’s chest and back, wheedling their way under his shirt, but it wasn’t enough, not nearly enough.  Steve pushed Tony’s hands aside long enough to pull his shirt over his head, no small feat considering how tight that thing was, and then pushed his pants and briefs down his hips to pool at his knees, freeing his cock to bob against Tony’s stomach, deep red and full and already tiny pearl-like droplets leaked from the head.  Tony wasn’t sure which one of them made the deep groan, probably him because speech had long since left him, overrated ability anyway, as far as he was concerned, when his mouth could be doing so many other interesting things.

Tony wrapped a calloused hand around Steve’s shaft, rubbing his thumb through the pre-come and tracing it up the engorged vein that ran down the length.  Steve’s head was thrown back, face flushed, eyes closed and mouth slightly parted, hands fisted at his sides as Tony worked him up and down, feeling him swell even more, and he was the most beautiful thing Tony had ever seen, and he was Tony’s and they were bonded.  Steve’s breath was coming in short pants, a high keening noise forced out between them with each rhythmic movement of Tony’s hand.  He watched in awe as Steve shuddered and his hips began to jerk into Tony’s hand. 

Tony wound his other hand into Steve’s hair, pulling his head down for a searing kiss, tongue driving in madly, pressing against Steve’s and thrusting deep, swiping wide before withdrawing.  He nipped lightly at Steve’s bottom lip as he traced a line down Steve’s jaw, shifting his hand to work Steve’s cock in a circular motion as Steve’s hips bucked.  He kissed and sucked his way down Steve’s throat to the cradle of his neck, stretched his fingers out and brushed them against Steve’s balls as his hand worked Steve from tip to root.  He felt Steve tense up, a wracking shudder running through him, and just as Steve’s whole body thrummed and clenched, Tony bit down sharply on the tendon that ran down Steve’s neck to his shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark, while at the same time squeezing and holding the end of Steve’s cock just long enough to stave off his climax, earning a wrecked sob from Steve as he buried his head in Tony’s neck. 

Something rattled around Tony’s  brain, something he’d read ages ago, maybe during one of those special classes they made Alphas take during middle school, the ones they’d all snickered through.  Something some pseudo-intellectual Alpha, who probably couldn’t possibly actually attract an Omega if he'd had a Dirk Diggler-sized dick, had written about how an Omega preferred to climax once the Alpha had knotted, which was total Alpha propaganda bullshit, except now Tony was going to have to write up some incredibly stellar review for the asshole on Goodreads or something because as soon as Tony released his grip on Steve’s cock,  Steve kicked his pants the rest of the way off, and, in one swift motion, turned away from Tony. Steve fell forward, going down to all fours, and bowed his head to the ground, spreading his knees apart on the cushion and presenting himself to Tony, his hole already stretched wide and glistening bright with slick. 

Tony let out a wrecked groan, arousal thrumming through him as his own erection grew impossibly hard. He moved forward slightly, splaying his hands over Steve’s hips and using his thumbs to spread Steve open even further.  Steve was making some kind of stuttering noise that might at one time have been Tony’s name.  He had gripped his hands into the carpet, forehead touching the floor as he writhed his head back and forth, every part of him seeming to move at once, as if coming undone, but yet remained where he was.  Tony reached his right thumb over to trace the rim of Steve’s hole, rubbing the slick around it and feeling another spurt of warm wetness leak onto his finger as he did.  He heard a sharp, ripping sound, and looked up to see the carpet and pad ripped out of the floor. 

“No worries.  I’ll redecorate.  Never liked the Berber, anyway,” Tony assured  Steve.  He managed to shove his shirt over his head and get his own pants undone in record time, finding that a little extra incentive went a long way towards improved dexterity.  He shoved jeans and boxers down, and shifted to line his cock up with Steve’s entrance.  He pushed in slowly, marveling as the head of his cock disappeared inside Steve, moist heat enveloping him, and he felt Steve’s body slacken more for him. Another spurt of warmth engulfed the head of his cock, and that was all it took for whatever control he had left to snap.  He drove in, with one long thrust, seating himself fully inside Steve with a sharp cry that seemed to fissure up his spine before finally creating a sound that was half wail, half shout of something like triumph.  Blood was rushing through his ears too loudly to know for sure if he was shouting now, though he thought he might be, rather wanted everyone to hear, to know that Steve was his, his Omega, his, and they were bonded and it was pure and true and right.  Granted all of that may not have been communicated particularly effectively by loud grunts, but he’d send a supplemental memo around later or something. 

Tony withdrew enough to enjoy the sight of his cock coated in Steve’s slick before pushing back in again, long, deep thrusts, gripping Steve’s hips to keep him in place as Tony’s balls slapped against the crack of Steve’s ass, coming away wet.  His rhythm faltered at that, felt himself tighten, stomach clenching.  He reached down as his cock slid out in again, he pressed his index finger in as well, hooking it upwards to press against the cluster of nerves as he thrust, the sensation of Steve’s body stretched around his finger and cock, both ramming forward at different angles almost too much.  Steve was making a low, guttural sound, and well, there went another rent in carpeting, but who cared because Steve was pressing back against him, meeting his thrusts, so he pulled his finger out, keeping his cock pumping in and out, and used the slippery moisture dripping off his finger to reach around and coat Steve’s shaft as it jutted against his stomach.

“Almost there, almost there, Steve, God, you’re so— _JesusfuckGodfuckingChirst_ —Steve,” was all he managed to choke out before he came so hard his vision blacked for a moment, like a switch had been flicked off, and he collapsed forward using Steve’s broad back for support as he finished the last couple of sloppy thrusts, emptying himself completely inside Steve.  He leaned down and pressed his forehead against the expanse of Steve’s back, breathing heavily, the room seeming to swim and sway as he blinked to regain some semblance of composure.  He was still holding Steve’s hard cock in his hand, as he felt the odd twisting pressure as the tip of his cock swelled and the knot released, moving deeply inside Steve, budging up against the cradle of nerves, causing a sharp cry followed by a stuttering, near scream from Steve that he managed to mostly bury in the carpet. 

“T—T—T—Tony—ah—Tony—nugh---”Steve choked out.  “T—Tony…Tony…Alpha…ugh…Alpha…Tony, please, please,” Steve pleaded, voice coming in wracked sobs.

Tony wasn’t sure why, wasn’t really thinking anything beyond lizard brain functions at the moment, but he shifted his stance slightly, lowering his hips and angling upward, using his knees to nudge Steve’s legs further apart as he did.  A second after he did, his body understood perfectly as the knot swelled, filling Steve even more, and attached, linking them together and keeping his seed in place.  He felt another wave of moist heat engulf his cock as it did, and heard himself emit a long, low moan of absolute pleasure, the feeling of being tethered like this, in some unspeakable, unbreakable way was overwhelming, almost too much to bear.  He was matched by Steve’s low, keening wail, building to some crescendo that only Steve could see. 

He began to move his hand up and down Steve’s cock again, spreading the slick around as he did, using his thumb to circle the head and trace down the slit.  He felt Steve grow even harder, lengthening beneath his hand, as he ran his fingers along the underside of Steve’s shaft over the large vein that lined the underside of Steve's cock and back around the head, using his nails to ever so slightly scrape the sensitive skin of the glans.  He repeated the motion again, and again, as Steve’s body twitched and contracted, tensing up beneath him.  He felt the clench of Steve’s muscles around his cock, the friction and new tightness enough to cause him to harden enough to push forward, pressing the knot against Steve’s prostrate.  Useless Alpha Wannabe Goodreads Guy was so getting a mini-muffin basket.  Steve’s whole body shook as he came, shoulders hunching and stomach caving as his back curved into an arch, his head pressed against the floor and Tony’s name spilling from his lips as he coated Tony’s hand with come. 

Tony breathed in long, shallow breaths.  For a long while, everything was just quiet, this blissful, floating feeling running through him, yet somehow  everything was intensely focused at the same time.  Everything faded away, all the universe reduced to scent and feeling and touch.  Every movement, every slight shift, brought some new, nearly overwhelmingly good sensation.  He could hear every hitch of breath Steve made, every sigh, feel every shudder roil or clench of muscle.  Tony looked down, marveling anew at the sight of his cock seated firmly in Steve’s entrance, the circle of red, wet muscle encasing him.  He ran a thumb around the ring of muscle at Steve’s entrance where it encircled his cock, fascinated with how it contracted and then eased at his touch.  He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, locked together with no options, absolutely no options, nope, none, time didn’t seem to really have the same meaning.  It could’ve been hours, days, years, he didn’t know.  It was…it was…

It was taking a long time, actually.  Tony shifted his knees a bit on the flat cushion.  Maybe they should’ve tried for the bed after all.

“Uh…you, um…you doing okay there?” Tony asked, trying not to sound like he was concerned.  What if he’d done something wrong?  While he’d been with Omegas in the past, he’d never actually done this part of things before.   Seemed like entirely too much effort and risk for far too little reward at the time. 

“M’good, Tony,” Steve replied, voice slurred and heavy sounding.  Tony waited what seemed like a long moment for him to elaborate.

“I could have JARVIS read something to us.  Maybe a magazine article?  There’s this great Time Magazine piece—“ Tony began.

“Not exactly bored here, Tony,” Steve responded dryly.

“Right, sure.  Great.  That’s great.  To hear, I mean.  Ah…” Tony stumbled over words, not sure what he should do.  He should do something, obviously, something to make sure Steve was okay and happy because clearly the object here was to never do anything except this ever, ever again.  Ever.   He wiped his hand on his jeans, where they still pooled around his thighs, and brought both hands up to rub Steve’s back up and down in soft, soothing motions.  He wasn’t sure how long he did that, but eventually he felt Steve relax beneath him, whatever tension that had still existed ebbing out, leaving Steve’s body languid and soft.  He contented himself with gently kneading the muscles of Steve’s back and shoulders, feeling the , occasionally placing light kisses in the path his hands had taken.  He heard Steve let out a soft sigh and low hum of pleasure, beneath him, so he figured he must be doing something right. 

He ran his fingers through Steve’s hair and down the back of his neck, tracing the fine sheen of perspiration along his spine.   Since Steve wasn’t actually in heat, they didn’t need to worry about making any big decisions right now.  But they should probably talk about things.  Make sure they were on the same page. 

“We should probably talk.  About things.  Make sure we’re on the same page.  Before your next heat, I mean.  Our lives are so dangerous.  It would just be irresponsible to bring kids into the mix.  They’d be in constant peril, let’s face it. So, it just doesn’t make sense.  I figure, two boys and a girl.  Then I’m putting my foot down,” Tony informed him.

“Under no circumstances are we having this conversation right now,” Steve said, because he was very responsible and mature like that, even when he didn’t know what he was talking about.  Sure, if you’d asked Tony a few hours ago, he’d have said absolutely not, but now, the idea of not doing this when Steve was in heat was utterly preposterous and surely Steve could see that?

“They will be adorable.  Steve, Jr.?  Steiphanne for the girl.  We’re rich white people so it is completely acceptable now to feminize a traditionally male name by deliberately misspelling it.  We can skip the part where we make derisive comments about ethnic names without any sense of irony though,” Tony informed him.  “We’ll have to homeschool, of course.  Get some tutors. Wonder if that Hawking guy is available?” Tony mused.   

“Clint is absolutely not tutoring our kids, Tony,” Steve grumbled.  “The kids we are not discussing right now,” Steve reminded him sternly, sounding somewhat indignant.  Perhaps Tony did currently have something of a minor advantage in this conversation.  A good Alpha probably wouldn’t make use of circumstances like this to get his way.  Tony rocked forward, letting his knot brush harder against the cluster of nerves, earning a hiss from Steve. 

“No, not Hawkeye.  Hawking.  He’s…he’s a really smart guy.  Not as smart as me.  Probably.  Anyway, good to see you’re being reasonable about this,” Tony said, smiling widely and reaching forward towards Steve.

“If you pat me on the head, we’re going to have words,” Steve warned.  Tony jerked his hand back. 

“Never,” Tony assured him, patting his ass instead and grinning wickedly in response to Steve’s glare, which would have probably bothered Tony, but he could see Steve biting his lip to keep from smiling, so it was okay. Okay-okay, even.

 He pressed forward once again and causing Steve’s head to snap back to the ground, and even Tony felt the wave of sensation roll through Steve as he clenched and tightened around Tony.  Turnabout was fair play, Tony supposed.  A moment later, Tony felt the tension from the tip of his cock suddenly release and felt a rush of warmth along his shaft, easing the way for the knot.  Despite that, he heard a sharp gasp from Steve as his whole body shuddered at the feeling of Tony’s knot retracting from deep inside him.  When his body told him it was okay, he slowly pulled out, rocking back to sit on his heels, utterly exhausted. 

Steve pushed himself up to all fours, head bowing low and breaths coming in deep, heaving pants, muscles shuddering with some effort Tony couldn’t comprehend.  They were too far apart, Tony realized, after being together for so long, this was too much.  He kicked his jeans and boxers off the rest of the way and half crawled up to kneel at Steve’s head, wrapping his arms around him as best he could and drawing him closer.  Steve obligingly curled into Tony’s embrace while Tony ran his hands up and down Steve’s skin.  They were both a mess, sticky and sweaty, and he was pretty sure those were carpet fibers in Steve’s hair. 

“JARVIS, bath, please,” Tony called out.  “And get us some food delivered.  That Thai place.  Say, four times my usual order.  Do not let Clint bring it to us,” Tony commanded.  He helped Steve to his feet, or at least held onto him while Steve managed just fine, whatever.  His own legs were wobbly and weak from kneeling, so it was possible it was Steve who actually propelled them to the tub. 

JARVIS had the water running, nice and hot, and Tony held onto Steve as they climbed in, partly because he needed something to help balance so he didn’t face plant into the tub and partly because he couldn’t let Steve go because, you know, something could happen, what the fuck ever.  He did get to wash Steve’s feet, and the rest of him, so there was that.  He took his time, as Steve seemed content to allow his ministrations for as long as he wanted.  He’d wash a spot, then follow with his mouth, gently kissing and licking his way around Steve’s body with an almost ritualistic delicacy.   

After Tony finished, they got out and Tony dried Steve with a soft towel.  Or he tried to, anyway.  The first towel wasn’t soft enough, so it actually ended up with Tony tossing one towel after another out of the linen closet while Steve dripped on the floor, but he finally did find something acceptable.  He handed Steve the Turkish cotton washcloth with relief at his success.

“Thanks, Tony,” Steve said drolly, but let Tony pat him dry as best he could.  Tony grabbed his robe off the hook and put that on, while Steve insisted, rather impractically in Tony’s opinion, on putting his shirt and underwear back on.  All that wasted effort, Tony thought sadly.

Someone had placed four paper bags filled with Thai food outside Tony’s door, so they ate, Steve consuming unholy amounts of food while Tony handed him other things he should try.  There was something absurdly endearing about watching Steve eat.  It filled him with some weird sense of accomplishment.  It was probably some crazy Alpha caveman care-and-feeding-of-your-Omega thing, but he handed Steve the box of spring rolls as hopefully as if it was frankincense and myrrh and just went with it.  He’d never paid any attention to what happened after the whole knotting thing.  That seemed to be the big show, so why bother with anything else.  It would probably be bad form to have JARVIS Google ‘what to do with your Omega post-knotting’ right now. 

“Um..” he said eloquently, clearing his throat.  “So.  That was good.  I think.  You…uh…you think?” Tony asked, squelching his eyes shut at the horribleness of it.  He hadn’t asked a partner if it had been good for them since he was fifteen in the back seat of Michelle Tambor’s limousine.  That might be some kind of commentary on him that he didn’t particularly want to examine all that closely, but it was very important that Steve thought it was good, because if Steve thought it was good, then they could do that again, and that was very important, so Steve needed to think it had been good.

Oh God, what if it hadn’t been good?  Why had he spent all that time studying thermonuclear astrophyics or clean energy solutions when he should’ve been focusing on important stuff like whether you were supposed to use some kind of scented oil in the bath and how to reinforce carpeting?  Stupid fucking MIT and their useless curriculum. 

“It was good, Tony.  I--well—it was good.  Very good,” Steve replied, a faint blush staining his cheeks.  Tony felt a warm glow of something that definitely wasn’t abject relief flood his stomach, as he released a breath he certainly hadn’t been holding for any reason. 

“You should sleep,” Tony urged.  They were going to have a tiring day tomorrow, because it had been very good.  Steve had said so, and Steve didn’t lie. 

“We’re supposed to have a debrief with Fury in the morning about the thing with the Doombots.  And Ms. Potts told me on my way up here that I was to tell you that nothing in the world would make me happier than if you went to the, let’s see…” Steve said, grabbing his discarded and soon to be trashed Dockers and digging a small notebook out of his pocket.  “The annual R&D grant awards banquet tomorrow afternoon.”

“Pepper has been trying to get me to attend that brown-nosing sycophantic pat-ourselves-on-the-back no alcohol waste of time for six years,” Tony said.  “She’s just trying to manipulate you, but she underestimates me, as usual.”

“It seems like a really good thing to support the education of our next generation of scientists and engineers, Tony.  I think you should consider going,” Steve replied.  “I’ll bet they would be really inspired to meet you.”

“Of course I’ll go,” Tony said promptly.  Steve smiled approvingly at him.  Why hadn’t he wanted to go to this thing?  It sounded fabulous.  “You could come with, if you wanted.  It’ll probably be terribly dull, except the parts about me, but everyone would love to see you.  From afar,” Tony suggested. 

“I think I’ll just stay at the Tower.  Get settled, that kind of thing,” Steve responded, to Tony’s disappointment.  It would have been so nice to sit with Steve at one of the three tables he’d need while everyone admired them and shouted congratulations across some kind of minimum safe distance.  Maybe next year.

Tony shucked the robe, and they crawled into Tony’s big bed together, Steve lying on his back and Tony attempting to cover as much of him as he possibly could, because something like a chill could happen, apparently.  Still, it was comforting to sleep like this, with his body over Steve’s, skin against skin, the glow of the arc reactor pressed between them. 

He slept as hard as he’d ever slept, dreamless and deep, and woke to heat and solid muscle beneath him.  He breathed in deeply, inhaling Steve’s scent and felt his morning erection go from welcoming the day to intensely interested.  He buried his head in the crook of Steve’s neck, licking at the place where he’d bitten the night before.  The mark had already faded, but Tony laved the spot with his tongue anyway.  He heard Steve groan and shift to wakefulness as Tony’s hands skated down Steve’s sides to hitch his shirt up enough to give him access to warm skin and hard planes of muscle. 

He felt Steve’s cock harden between them as his hands grazed up Steve’s stomach to toy with his nipples, first circling the areolae before finally brushing the rigid nipples, earning a sharp gasp from Steve.  He looked down to see Steve’s eyes wide and dilated, burning into Tony as he shifted lower, pushing Steve’s shirt up high enough to allow his mouth access.  He brought his head to Steve’s right nipple and licked a wide stripe, then blew cool air over it, feeling Steve’s hips buck against him as he did.  He clasped his mouth onto the nipple, sucking and pulling just a bit more than enough, using his teeth to graze the sensitive nub.  Steve’s back arched into him, and Tony rewarded him by flattening his tongue over the nipple again and again, then swirling it around the taut peak.  He turned his attention to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment as his hand worked at the first one, keeping it overly sensitized and drawing harsh cries from Steve’s throat. 

When Steve was fully hard against his stomach, he moved lower, kissing a trail down Steve’s stomach, swirling his tongue at each stop as he went.  He dipped his tongue in Steve’s navel and circled it, then moved lower to tangle in the springy hair beneath, drawing in the musky, heady scent.  Tony pushed Steve’s briefs down and pulled them off, tossing them aside for never.  He moved his mouth lower, following the trail of hair until he reached the root of Steve’s cock, which bobbed upwards against his stomach, already leaking from the tip.  He hovered above it, breathing hot, heavy pants of air against the hard length before running his cheek along the underside of Steve’s shaft, scraping his beard against the translucent skin, before shifting to use his tongue to trace the frenulum and over the slit, tasting the salty, bitter pre-come on his tongue before spreading it over Steve’s cock as he licked a wide stripe back up to the root. 

“Tony…Tony…Tony,” Steve chanted.  “Please.   Please, God, please.”  Tony grinned at the desperation in his voice, the thrill of having done this to his Omega, brought him to this state, was nearly enough to undo him right then and there.  He breathed in a long, steadying breath before dipping his head and wrapping his mouth over the head of Steve’s cock.  Steve was making harsh, guttural noises as Tony applied suction, hollowing his cheeks and using his tongue to work the delicate slit.  He felt another spurt of pre-come leak into his throat as he flattened his tongue and drew more of Steve’s length into his mouth.  He brought his hands to Steve’s hips to guide him in the short, small thrusts that worked Steve’s cock to the back of Tony’s throat.  Tony hollowed his cheeks again, sucking harder as he drew his teeth down the sensitive skin until just the head was in his mouth.  He jabbed his tongue at the slit, then swirled it around the head of Steve’s shaft in wide circles, letting out a low hum that vibrated up Steve’s length.  Saliva pooled in his mouth and he swallowed once around Steve’s cock, causing Steve’s hips to twitch sharply under his hands and a soft cry to fall from his lips.

“Oh. Oh, Tony,ugh, please, just…gah, Tony,” Steve murmured, head tossing from side to side and eyes glazed wide, staring down at Tony’s mouth wrapped around his cock.  Tony thought about the way Steve’s hole had cradled his cock last night, and closed his eyes with a groan, taking as much of Steve’s length as he could handle.  Steve’s hip bucked once, then twice, his balls tightening and stomach muscles clenching.  Steve’s hands wound in Tony’s hair, not pulling, but strong enough to hold Tony steady.  Tony felt the hot gush of come flow down his throat, the shout of Tony’s name falling from his lips.  He swallowed around Steve’s cock, the taste of him filling Tony’s mouth.

“Tony…” Steve breathed out, elongating his name and making it sound like a plea.  Tony moved up and captured Steve’s mouth for deep kiss, tongue thrusting inside.  He nipped lightly at Steve’s lips as he withdrew, then drove his tongue back in to mingle with Steve’s, filling Steve’s mouth with the taste of his own come.  But it wasn’t nearly enough.  He couldn’t knot again, not this soon, he knew, but he needed to be inside Steve, filling him, claiming him, marking Steve as his.  He moved lower again, seating himself between Steve’s legs and spread them apart, pushing Steve’s knees up against his sides.  Steve was loose and wide and ready for him, dripping with slick. 

“Please, please, Tony, Alpha, please,” Steve begged, eyes squeezed shut against the sensations.  Unable to resist the temptation, Tony bent his head down and swirled his tongue around the rim in one, long swipe.  Steve threw his head back and screamed, surely loud enough for half of Manhattan to hear and rocked himself towards Tony.  Tony looked down and watched in wonder as Steve’s hole widened before him, clear, gleaming fluid coating the rim.  He lined the head of his cock up with Steve’s entrance, pushing just the tip inside, feeling the warm, wet heat of Steve wash over him. 

“Look at me, Steve,” Tony coaxed.  “Need to see you, Steve, need to see, please,” he pleaded.  Steve’s eyes snapped open and found his.  Tony eased his cock past the ring of muscle at Steve’s entrance, sliding in with little resistance.  He paused, breaching Steve halfway and reached up to grasp Steve’s hand, lacing their fingers together while the other hand splayed over Steve’s hip.  

“Mine,” Tony said, making it an endearment. 

“Yours,” Steve replied, squeezing Tony’s hand.  “Always, Tony.  I waited---waited so long.  For you.  Please.”  Tony thrust forward, seating himself fully inside Steve.  He held himself steady for a moment, then pulled out almost all the way, leaving just the tip of his cock inside.  He heard a low whine from Steve and drove back in, setting a pace of long, slow strokes, easing in and out as he watched Steve’s face shift and flush, eyes never wavering from Tony’s. 

“Steve…Steve…God…you’re…you’re Steve,” Tony muttered.  “My Omega.  Mine.  Mine… you’re mine.  We’re…we’re bonded.  Bonded.  You have to stay.  We’re bonded.  Stay.  Please.  Please, please, stay,” Tony choked out as he thrust deeply, gripping Steve’s hand for dear life.  “We…we can…go to the island.  Island.  No way to…have to stay. Stay.  On the island. Steve, please.  We’re bonded.”

“I’m not leaving, Tony,” Steve promised.  “I swear it. And I’m always honest.”  Tony came with a harsh sob, hunching over Steve as he shuddered, short, shallow thrusts emptying him out.  Tony collapsed onto Steve’s chest, great, heaving breaths torn from him.  He found that didn’t want to pull out right away, though he couldn’t knot again this soon.  Staying inside Steve even as his cock softened was close enough that he couldn’t bring himself to withdraw, the feeling of being inside Steve, being joined, even this rather poor substitute, too heady to let go right away.  He nuzzled against Steve for awhile, floating in the security of being this close to his Omega, being part of him. 

“Excuse me, Sirs,” JARVIS intoned as evenly as he could probably be managed under the circumstances.  “Director Fury has arrived for the debriefing.  The team is gathering in the conference room.  Your presence is requested.  I am to tell you that you can be assured that the bubble will be respected and it shall not be necessary invoke Rule Number Four, which, despite this representation from Mister Barton, I feel compelled to inform you, would violate the Geneva Convention if ever utilized.”

“We’re skipping it,” Tony said, burying his face in the crook of Steve’s arm.

“We’ll be there in a bit, JARVIS,” Steve replied.  “Tony? Tony, we have to go to this.  And you have the intern banquet to attend.  You promised Pepper, remember?”

“I did not.  YOU promised Pepper and then the two of you ganged up on me like some Omega-Beta superteam, and you used your Omega wiles to get me to agree, which completely does not count,” Tony said sternly, because that kind of emotional manipulation was just not on.

“So, you’re saying you don’t think it is good for a relationship if one partner uses the other partner’s moment of emotional vulnerability to his or her advantage to get what they want?”  Steve asked evenly.

“Of course not!  That would be—oh.  Yeah, I see what you did there,” Tony grimaced, recalling the whole completely reasonable and mature discussion of future offspring they’d had last night.  While he was knotted inside Steve.  Which some might question the validity of, big ticket item partner-discussion-wise, but it just made Steve so darn reasonable.   He remembered reading in a magazine article that being knotted brought clarity to the otherwise overly emotional Omega.  He looked down at Steve glaring up at him.  He strongly suspected that was probably not the correct answer here.

“Okay, okay, I’m going,” Tony groused, sliding himself out of Steve with a depressed sigh.  They showered and changed quickly.  Well, not strictly quickly, in so much the sense of being fast, because Tony spent a good part of the shower plastered against Steve’s back with his hands wrapped around Steve’s middle, which made for a bit of an issue when it came time to wash hair.  Tony clearly needed to look into some tear-free shampoo.  Then dressing was a bit of a challenge because first, Steve should obviously  not wear clothes, and second, Steve needed to wear some kind of parka and snowpants to go to the meeting because Clint was mocking Rule Number Four, he just knew it, which broke Rule Number Nine:  Do Not Mock The Rules About Steve, That Means You, Clint, You Giant Asshole.   Really, there had been a memo.  He actually knew rocket science, and this wasn’t it.

They finally stumbled down to the conference room and took their seats, which were still regular chairs and not a nice, comfy loveseat, which would match just fine no matter what Pepper said.  Tony scooted his chair over next to Steve’s and grabbed his hand.

“Glad you two could join us,” Fury said, literally giving Tony the eye, much  to Tony’s amusement.  “Sorry to interrupt whatever you were doing that I never want to know about.”

“It isn’t a problem, Sir. We’re sorry for our lateness.  Do you have an update on the situation with the Doombots?” Steve asked, because Steve was a good leader who liked to collect information.  Tony handed him a StarkTablet with classified SHIELD reports on it, because let’s face it, Fury was just going to bullshit them.  “Um, thanks, Tony,” Steve said with a slight smile. 

“Stark, quit passing notes to your boyfriend,” Fury snapped. 

“He’s not my boyfriend.  He’s Steve.  He’s my Omega.  We’re—“ Tony clamped down on his jaw.  “Bonded.”  Dammit.

“Okay, so, the Doombots have been handled.  For now.  We all know they’ll be back, so I’d like you to each review the footage of the fight and analyze it for tactical opportunities, weaknesses, that kind of thing,” Fury continued, ignoring Tony.  “We still have the situation with Krakoa that needs some mopping up—“

“Excuse me, Director,” Steve interrupted.  “I thought there was another team handling that?”

“I hate to burst your bubble, Captain—“ Fury began.

“Pretty sure Stark did that last night,” Clint interjected with a smirk.  Tony grinned widely, then immediately shot him a disgruntled look as Steve looked over at him and blushed. 

“But, there is often a lot of work to be done after the big battle is over. SHIELD assists with that, and when necessary, so do the Avengers,” Fury continued over Clint.  “The nature of this radioactive living island requires some delicate handling to fully contain.  I’d like Natasha, Clint and Thor to accompany a SHIELD team to the Pacific to ensure there are no problems with containment.  Dr. Banner, you’ll be on stand-by, if you don’t mind.”

The meeting went on for far longer than Tony thought was necessary, but Steve was dutifully taking notes while surreptitiously looking at the files Tony had downloaded to his tablet.  Couple of days with Tony and he was already learning to question authority and distrust Fury.  Tony was so proud.  When the interminable thing finally ended, Tony followed Steve out of the conference room as the rest of the team headed off in their various directions. 

“Have fun at the banquet, Tony,” Steve urged.  “I think everyone will really appreciate that you took the time to be there.  Think of how many people you can inspire just by showing up.”

“I—yeah.  Yeah, it will be good, I guess,” Tony admitted.  “It’s just…it’s hard to leave you.  This…it’s so new.  I don’t…I mean, what if…”

“Nothing will happen, Tony.  I know you worry.  I worry about you, too, you know.  This…it isn’t easy for me, either,” Steve admitted.  “Letting you go, not being able to reach out and touch you…it’s hard.  I mean…” Steve broke off, waving his hand uselessly in the air.

“Something could happen?” Tony offered softly.

Steve nodded, biting his lower lip a bit.  Tony sighed.  “Great.  Now I’m worried that you’re worried about me.  Fucking hormones,” Tony grumbled.  “I’m going, I’m going.  Tell Pepper she owes me when you have your Omega-Beta superfriends club meeting.  I’ll be wildly disappointed if there isn’t a handshake by the time I get back.” 

The banquet was fine.  The interns were suitably impressed, and actually, the research proposals weren’t half bad.  He spent some time discussing a couple of them in more detail, before making appropriate excuses and getting the hell out of there.  That itchy, nauseous feeling was working its way up his spine again, short bursts of heat flaring in his gut.  He’d been away from Steve entirely too long, he decided.  He wanted to make sure he was okay, make sure he’d gotten some lunch, found his way around the Tower, maybe check to see if he’d like to get down on all fours for Tony again for a few hours.  Also, he should get him some pants other than Dockers.

“Home, Happy,” Tony ordered as he practically sprinted to the car, finding, for the first time, that the Tower actually lived up to the concept of home.  The ride back to the Tower took just short of forever, but they finally made it.  Tony leapt out of the car before Happy could get out from behind the wheel, and dashed for the elevator.  He hit the button repeatedly, because that always seemed to never actually do anything, but it made him feel like he was doing something to hurry things along.  When the doors finally pinged open, Tony hopped inside and hit the red and gold button for their floor.  Their floor.  He liked how that sounded.  The place that was his and Steve’s.  It wasn’t an island and there were far too many ways that led away from Tony, both literal and metaphorical, but it was theirs, so it was the only place that mattered.

He stepped off the elevator and into the penthouse, then stopped abruptly, mind trying to catch up with what his eyes were seeing.  The large palm from the living room was in the center of the bedroom and what looked like every single pillow or cushion in the entire Tower was situated around it.  Steve was standing off to one side in dark slacks and a blue button up. 

“Is that…did you…oh my God…you…you…you made a pillow island?” Tony stuttered in disbelief.  “You…you made a pillow island,” he repeated.  “You…you know I love and adore you completely in this amazing, all encompassing way, right?”  Steve nodded in reply. 

“I think I might actually like you, Rogers,” Tony said, grinning madly at the sight before him.  Steve smiled a wobbly smile that made his heart skip a beat. 

“The concepts seemed important to you,” Steve said, looking down at the carpet and frowning a bit at the large section missing.  “And I thought…well, it’s stupid, I guess, but I wanted you to know that…this…us…we are the island, Tony.  It isn’t a place that we stay.  It’s just us, together.  This…you and me…this is where I’ll stay.  I promise.”

Tony let out a shuddering breath and bowed his head.  “I don’t deserve this.  You.  But I’m going to spend my life trying to.  I promise.”

He started to walk over to where Steve was standing, but Steve held up a hand in front of him and Tony jarred to a halt in question.  Steve undid the buttons of his shirt and shrugged it off.  Tony burst out laughing.

“JARVIS helped me get it,” Steve explained with a lopsided grin.  “Thought it would maybe get the point across if the pillow island metaphor didn’t work.”  Tony walked over to stand in front of Steve and traced the words in bold, black letters against Steve’s white T-shirt.  ‘I’m Steve.  I’m Tony’s Omega.  We’re bonded,’ it read.  Tony bumped his head against Steve’s chest, shoulders shaking with mirth.  “I like you, too, Tony,” Steve said, then leaned in for a kiss. 

“Would be a shame to let our chance at an island getaway get squandered,” Tony murmured against Steve’s mouth.  Steve, bless him, immediately toed off his shoes, undid his belt and unzipped his trousers, pushing them to the floor along with his briefs and kicking them to the side.  He started to pull the shirt over his head, but Tony reached out a hand to grab the hem. 

“Oh, leave it on,” Tony ordered, a grin spreading across his face. 

The next morning Tony woke up on top of Steve again, his body shielding most of Steve’s from whatever his lizard brain thought might happen in their bed at night while they slept.  He supposed this was some issue when Alphas were trying to protect their Omegas in caves or something, but now it was just like having his own Steve-shaped body pillow, so yay for evolutionary throwbacks.  He stumbled downstairs to the kitchen and grabbed a coffee mug from the shelf.  Bruce was sitting at the table reading something on his tablet and having an omelet. 

“Morning, Jolly Green, how’s it going?” Tony asked conversationally. 

“Good, good,” Bruce replied.  “Guess I don’t have to ask about you,” he said with a genuine smile.

Tony huffed out a light laugh and shook his head.  “Yeah, no, things are great.  Amazing, really.  It’s like…I don’t know how to even describe it.  Everything is just…better.  Not just Steve, but everything. The world.  It’s just better.  I feel like…like I can do anything.  Giddy or punch-drunk, I don’t kow.  It’s awesome though,” Tony said, smiling.  “Hey, you’re a doctor,” Tony observed astutely.  Bruce just nodded.  “So, when do these things wear off?”

“What?” Bruce asked curiously.

“These bonding hormones?  I admit that I never paid much attention in class other than to the whole sex part and how to reprogram the school’s automated lunch payment system to use as venture capital for something on the internet that had an ‘e’ in front of it,” Tony admitted.

“Tony…Tony, the bonding hormones would’ve worn off sometime yesterday afternoon.  Definitely before the battle.  You slept, right?  You wouldn’t have slept while still dealing with the bonding hormones.  No one sleeps through bonding,” Bruce explained. 

“Okay, so not bonding hormones, whatever Mr. Technical Doctor.  I don’t know, post…uh…post…you know…hormones.  Whatever you call them,” Tony said with a wave of his hand. “When does this stop?   Just want a head’s up to be prepared for the let down.  Bet that’s a bitch,” Tony grimaced. 

“Well,” Bruce started.  “This…it is pretty intense at the beginning, I know.”  Tony nodded vigorously in agreement.  “You do sort of get used to it, and the euphoric feeling you’re having will fade with time, though it is surprisingly easy to have that resurface.  And there will be times when you won’t feel it, and yes, you’re right, that…that can be devastating.”

“So,” Tony said, sipping from his mug of coffee.  “What is it anyway?  Some Omega pheromone whammy thing?”

“Tony,” Bruce said, drawing out his name, a small, enigmatic smile playing on his lips.  “Its…well, there is a biological component, don’t get me wrong.  It’s much more complex and much simpler than that, though,” Bruce explained.  Tony just stared at him uncomprehendingly. 

“Tony…you’re happy.   You’re just…happy.  This…Tony, this is what happiness feels like,” Bruce explained, voice sounding a little sad at that.  Tony blinked at him.  He turned when he heard footfalls on the steps.  Steve tromped into the kitchen in grey lounge pants, stopped next to Tony to place a quick kiss on his lips before grabbing an Iron Man mug off of the shelf and pouring himself a cup of coffee.  Tony just stared, his own coffee mug forgotten halfway to his mouth.

That didn’t…that couldn’t…it made no sense.  He watched Steve walk over and pick up the paper off the counter and settle into one of the kitchen chairs, immediately turning the pages to check the box scores. 

“Yankees lost,” Bruce said helpfully.

“Yes, but let’s see how badly,” Steve said gleefully from behind the paper.  Tony grinned on instinct.  Steve peeled back the edge of the paper and looked at Tony.  Tony saluted him slowly with his mug and Steve smiled softly in return before going back to wishing the Yankees into perdition. 

Oh.  Well, who knew?  That explained a lot, actually.  Happiness.  Of course.  Made complete sense.  He should have realized.  It was obvious, after all.

Steve was happiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a short drabble of Steve's POV in my Thank You Fics, if you are interested!
> 
> Well, that was about the dirtiest thing I've ever written. *pats self on back* Such a proud, proud day, LOL. Thank you all so much for reading, and particularly for taking the time to leave a comment and/or kudo. This honestly wasn't going to be anything but a one-shot, but people seemed to really enjoy it, so it kind of grew into it's own beast. So, see, feeding the author works! Thank you, thank you, thank you. Hope you enjoyed it.


	7. Fanart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Look at this adorable fanart by Dksartz! Steve in his shirt and Tony with his pillow, lol. Find more on tumblr at http://dksartz.tumblr.com/

[](https://www.cweb-pix.com/image/LHGz)


	8. NSFW Fanart by Gregory Welter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Absolutely lovely fanart done by Gregory Welter. Check out his tumblr for more art and info on commissions: gregorywelter.tumblr.com


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